


Bewitching Monsters

by StarllingWrites



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Exophilia, Fantasy-Romance, LGBTQ Character, Magic, Monster Romance, Multi, Polyamorous Character, Teratophilia, Witchcraft, monster love, slowburn, story heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2019-12-26 11:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 38,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18281519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarllingWrites/pseuds/StarllingWrites
Summary: It is well known that when seeking out a witch, an offering is to be given in exchange. Some witches are picky about their payment types. The new witch in Arvos, though, offers a range of options: food, herbs, alcohol, pets, secrets, death, and more. Even sex.Sit for a spell and delve into the romantic and sexual tales of a witch and her inhuman lovers.





	1. Ghost - Part 1

When I first moved into this simple cabin in the forest, I hadn’t realized how much work it was going to take to transform it into the home I needed. It was simple adding in a loft for my sleeping quarters. The kitchen was already sufficient; eventually I’d like to add a second fireplace, but that could wait. Turning the field around the place into a proper garden would take time too. But I was prepared for all those things.

The _real_ issue I had with settling in was dealing with the ghost.

The town court had warned me the house was haunted before I bought it. I brushed it off as a simple task. Restless ghosts were nothing new to me. Most just need to vent their unresolved issues and they can move on. This one however… they were being a real pain in the ass.

To start, they were completely impolite. They refused to tell me their name, or say anything at all. They mostly stayed hidden, but enjoyed lurking in the corners of my vision, appearing as an amorphic haze with pitch black eyes. Every morning, a number of my belongings were moved and at least one thing was thrown outside.

I started calling the pest Shade.

“I’m not moving out, Shade. This is my home now and you really need to start calming the fuck down,” I growled after retrieving all my left shoes from outside. It was raining today. I was sopping wet and had zero patients—and it was only the morning.

Caffeine. It was becoming my crutch more and more with each day I lived here. After three weeks, I was already up to needing four strong cups of black tea a day.

I started a fire to warm the house then lit the stove to boil water. With that all set, I stripped off my nightshirt and panties, wrung them out into the sink then hung them near the fireplace to dry. Just as I was crossing the room to change, the door slammed open and a gust of wind whipped around me. I yelped and wrapped my arms around myself, instinctively crouching to try to keep warm. However, it was autumn and had been raining since the middle of the night, making the air absolutely freezing. Goosebumps covered my bare body and I shivered and glared at the vanishing mist in the doorway.

“Do you want me to kill you with an exorcism? Because _that’s_ how you get killed by an exorcism, Shade.” I took a deep breath, stood up, marched to the door and slammed it shut. Shade seemed more active than usual. Was the rain making them stronger? I didn’t really want to know. I just wanted to get warm.

I went up into my loft and opened up my wardrobe. Or tried to at least. By the third firm, unsuccessful tug, I was sure that it was Shade’s doing. Were they determined to make me freeze to death? Either that or they were a massive perv and just enjoyed me running around naked. Maybe both. I banged my head against the wardrobe door and groaned. I hadn’t even been awake for an hour and I was ready for the day to be over.

“Fine. Fine!” I grumbled to myself. No clothes today. I grabbed a fur blanket and a knitted throw off the top of my bed and went back down to the fireplace. I laid out the fur on the floor to sit on and wrapped the other blanket around myself. I would not be defeated by a damn ghost. I could manage being inconvenienced, but defeated?—never.

   
  


Hours into my day, the rain had finally stopped and blessed sunlight filled my windows. Between the sun and the roaring fireplace, the chill in the air had vanished. And on the plus side: no more tricks from Shade.

Just as I finished wrapping a bundle of herbs to hang, a knock came at the door. “Just a moment,” I called. I tied one final knot then cut the cording before hurrying to answer. “Sorry for the wait,” I greeted.

Outside stood a tall elf with pastel yellow skin, silver hair, and a cute smile that made his sky eyes shine like sunrise. On his vambraces was the official Mailer seal. That would make the cloth wrapped rectangle in his hands my new spirit board. He cleared his throat and I met his eyes. He gave me a quick once over and raised his eyebrows at me. That was when I remembered I was only wearing a throw blanket over my shoulders like a shawl. No wonder he had been smiling so much when I opened the door. I quickly wrapped the blanket around myself properly and tried to hide my blush.

“Wait here. I’ll get your payment.” When I returned, I gave him a sharp glare.

“No tip?” he mused after he counted it out.

“The free show is your tip,” I snapped. I snatched my package from him. “Thank you. Bye now.”

I had ordered the spirit board after I realized Shade wasn’t going to talk to me. I figured they had enough strength to move objects, but not enough to manifest a voice to commune. I didn’t specialize in deathcraft during my studies, so I never saw the need to keep my school-issued spirit board around. I preferred working with the living—much easier to earn a living that way.

Originally I was planning on using the board on the night it arrived. After this morning, though, it might be better to wait until the next rainfall. I didn’t enjoy the thought of waiting. Shade seemed determined to up the ante on their mischief every day.

“What do you say, Shade? Move something if you’re up for it tonight. Stay silent is you want to wait until it rains again.” After a minute of silence as I unwrapped the board, I took their answer for the latter. “Rain it is.”


	2. Ghost - Part 2

I had gone out to get some food when I got caught in a downpour. I enjoyed rain but not when it got in the way of my life. Thankfully I had only needed some fruit today, so I was neither encumbered nor worried about keeping them dry. Still, I raced home, keeping under the trees as much as I could.

Once in the shelter of home again, I first stripped down to nothing. The less water I had to mop up the better. I stoked the fireplace into a roar then dragged a bucket to the door. Even after wringing out my hair and clothes, it still felt like they were drenched in an unending amount of water. I gave up. I dumped the bucket outside then brought it with to the fireplace so my clothes wouldn’t drip on the floor as they dried.

Then the fire started dying.

Of course I was out of firewood too. All the wood I had stored outside was soaking wet and useless. Out of mundane options, I turned to my herb cabinet and dug around for my mix of Infernim—my custom blend for magical fire. There wasn’t much left, but I should be able to ration it out until I could get dry firewood. I uncorked the bottle only to gag on a burp of char and rot escaping the container. Gross! It had gone bad. I sealed up the bottle and tossed in on the kitchen table to deal with later.

Today was just one trouble after another. Did I piss some deity off? Was this karmic backlog catching up to me? Or happening early so the rest of the month would be problem free? My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

In my doorway now stood a tall figure: they were humanoid in silhouette, but their exact race or sex was unclear. All of their features were unclear save their striking blue eyes. Despite the mystery wrapped around this sudden intruder, I felt no fear. In fact I felt drawn to the stranger. Before I could form another thought, I was standing right in front of them. Their gaze held me in place.

Their mouth was suddenly on mine. Their tongue shoved into my mouth and madly danced around mine. I felt like I was choking for breath, but I didn’t want to break away— _I couldn’t if I tried_ , screamed something inside me. Their hands were on my waist; nails dug into my skin setting me on fire. My mind slipped further and further away. My back met something soft. My bed?—it had to be. They pinned my wrists down on either side of me. Their tongue slid out from my mouth, dragged down my neck, teased around my breasts, caressed my stomach and hips, then wrapped around my thighs. I was a shuddering, squirming mess by the end of it.

I tried to moan out but before any sound could escape me, their hand was firmly around my throat. No—that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be their hand; they were still pinning down my wrists. But it _was_ them. Oh it was _all_ them. Every point of contact fueled the growing desire between my thighs. Why was this happening? No. That wasn’t what I wanted to know. I wanted to know why _more_ wasn’t happening already. I looked at them with pleading eyes as I wiggled my hips and shifted my legs. Their figure loomed over me, seemingly larger than before. They _were_ larger than before. A smile split their face. Their jaw unhinged. Rows upon rows of vicious fangs filled their widening maw. I was terrified—and yet had the thought, _Yes, devour me!_

Right as those teeth were going to break my flesh, I was awoken by a clap of thunder.

“Dammit, Shade!” I knew that dream was their doing. It was the first of its kind and I had no intention of allowing any repeating offenses. Calming down, I noted my sweat-soaked sheets, the rhythmic pouring of rain on the roof, and a shadow sitting at the foot of my bed with the spirit board between us. This was also a first. I slowly sat up, never taking my eyes off the figure. “Shade?”

The planchette on the spirit board moved over YES then NO.

Never before had I seen a spirit use a spirit board unaided. I pushed aside the questions that arose from this insight and instead finally started having a conversation with this pesky ghost. “What is your real name?”

CAERA

“Okay, Caera. What the hell was with that dream?”

WAKE UP

“You were trying to wake me up? Why not just _say_ that in the dream instead? You know—the easy way.”

The shadow opened its mouth, releasing a hiss. BAR

Well damn… That left a sour taste in my mouth. Tongue bars were a special kind of tongue ring spelled to prevent either lying or talking. They were a threat for children to make them behave, but mostly a punishment for certain crimes. They’re typically temporary, but in some cases are permanently left in—namely for the worst criminals. Still, I had never heard of one staying in _after_ death. “You were a criminal?”

NO The planchette flew to the answer with such speed and rage. HE LIED FRAMED ME

No wonder she was lingering. Suddenly I no longer saw her mischief negatively. She was just trying to get my attention, to pass on a message she couldn’t in other ways. “Was your death tied to water? You seem stronger when it rains.”

YES

As helpful as all this was, it was still difficult to hold a proper conversation. There were so many questions I wanted to ask. But spirit boards were restrictive. There was one other option I could try, though it wasn’t favorable. I could allow her to possess me. Opening myself up to a spirit was risky. Caera could as easily share her memories with me as she could try to take over my body. While she seemed weak on average, she could be faking it—she _did_ influence my dreams after all.

I sighed and rubbed my shoulder. “If I let you in… If I let you possess me, do you _swear_ , under threat of exorcism, to _only_ share your memories with me so I can understand what happened to you and what will help you pass on?”

Caera nodded enthusiastically then bowed, pressing her forehead to the bed.

“Alright,” I sighed. “Might as well do it now. Give me a little bit to get things ready.”


	3. Ghost - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: brief murder/drowning scene

I burned frankincense and sandalwood incense. I lit some white and purple candles. I readied a shallow bowl of water, a small dish of salt, and my black, lace blindfold. My tools were ready. I still wasn’t mentally ready—not completely. But I already agreed to this.

Caera sat facing me with the water bowl between us. I cast a circle around us, invoked my go-to deity for psychic work, then sat down. Calling quarters didn’t feel right for this. Even calling a goddess seemed like a bit much, but it was reassuring to have her presence in case things got out of hand. I took three breaths, centering myself, entering my ritual headspace. I tied the blindfold over my eyes.

“From beyond the grave, give me sight; may history reveal how to set things right,” I murmured before gazing down into the water. Before we started, I explained to Caera what she was to do now. Slowly, her reflection emerged, overlapping my reflection. I felt her drawing into me. The more she entered me, the heavier my body felt—a witch’s body was not made to house more than one spirit. Once she fully possessed me, my vision fell away.

 

_I was in a dim hallway. Further away I could hear the distinct sounds of a couple having sex—they were not trying to be secretive about it. I went closer. Silently I crept up to the door left ajar._

_“Mm! Fuck yeah. You like that, don’t you?” groaned a male. No—the Master of the house. However I knew for a fact that he wasn’t with my Mistress. She was still tending to her sister-in-law who was close to giving birth. The Master was cheating on my Mistress. Again._

_The first time my Mistress caught him, she swore that if he did it again, she would divorce him. And since all the fortune was from my Mistress’s family, he’d be left in scraps. The scum deserved it. My family had served this house for generations. I could not stand to let this scum hurt my Mistress more._

_I pushed the door open little by little so I could peak in. One perk of the luxury my Mistress kept was you never had to worry about squeaky doors. I took out my slate and started recording them. It was disgusting having to watch this trash try to pleasure whatever foolish female was beneath him. But it must be done. I would need hard proof. My Mistress would surely believe me, but with this, he couldn’t get away with lying. If only I could see the female’s face._

_I nudged the door a little more so I could get a better angle, but the door hit something metallic. Despite the loud sounds of sex, the sound of metal dragging across the floor screeched notably. I immediately drew back into the hallway and stashed my slate in my apron pocket. I needed to get far away from here. If the Master learned I had witnessed his infidelity before I could inform the Mistress… I didn’t want to imagine what would happen to me._

_I was just coming to in a dimly lit room. My arms were bound behind me, my ankles clapped in heavy shackles, and my mouth was numb. Then I heard the Master’s voice hiss above me. I kept still. I didn’t want him knowing I was awake._

_“I thank you again for your swift services.”_

_Another male chuckled. “Always a pleasure working with you, Sir Maardugos. Though I must advise, next week I’ll be out of town for a few days; the only whelp I’d go to for bars would be down over in the valley and he doesn’t make house calls.”_

_Bars? No—no he couldn’t mean… I moved my tongue around my mouth and sure enough I felt the scrape of a tongue bar. Damn him! Did he really think this would stop me from telling my Mistress about him? I could still write. And I still had the recording—as long as he didn’t steal my slate._

_Pain shot through my skull and back. I was being dragged across the ground. I flailed about, trying to break free, trying to grab hold of anything I could use as a weapon. I screamed for help but my voice was trapped. It was just a raspy mess of sound, a hoarse whisper and gurgling groans._

_“You think you’re so smart?” growled the Master. “I don’t care if you are that bitch’s favorite pet; you just keep meddling where you shouldn’t. Clearly that bar wasn’t enough for you.”_

_Tears stung my eyes. He was going to murder me. By the gods—my heart ached to see my Mistress just once more. One hard jerk sent me scrambling into freezing water. I started choking for breath, not able to fully get my head above water long enough to cough up everything that sloshed into my lungs._

_“Finish this. Make sure you take the body far from here,” the Master ordered. There were more hands on me. They held me under. My fighting was pointless.._

 

I was knocked back into my own mind and immediately started coughing up phantom water. Really wish Caera didn’t share _that_ part with me. It was unnecessary since I already assumed she drowned. I ripped my blindfold off and took a minute to compose myself.

Maardugos—that name stuck out to me.

They were a prominent family. Old money. And despite all that wealth they were mostly a benevolent and loved family. About seven decades ago there was an incident where the heiress divorced her husband and he went berserk. He lashed out at everyone: servants, the heiress, and even the high matriarch. He was executed. I’d bet he was the one responsible Caera’s death.

“Do you know how much time has gone by since then? Was it about seventy years ago?” She thought for a moment, then shook her head and shrugged. Even if she didn’t know, I was still sure on my guess. And while I had the good news that the man who orchestrated her muting and murder was dead, I knew that wasn’t exactly what Caera wanted.

I had a new plan now.


	4. Ghost - Part 4

After the night I learned about Caera’s past, things were a lot calmer around home. In fact, she started doing nice things for me. On warm, sunny days she would open the windows for me; on cold mornings I’d wake up to a toasty home, a fire already stoked to a comfortable blaze.

“I have to go into town today,” I announced, knowing Caera would hear me, wherever she was. I wrapped my shawl around myself and made sure I had all I needed in my bag. “Hopefully it’ll only take a few hours, but I really don’t know. I’ll be back by dinner for sure.”

Outside, I pulled the broom charm off my necklace and tossed it up in the air. From charm to full-sized, I hopped on my ride and started flying down the road to town. I didn’t have the most advance broom, but it was perfect for my needs: simple size adjustment enchantment, a comfortable little seat, easy speed control, and a basket for my things.

Arvos was an amalgamation of old and new. Most main hub-towns had to be to accommodate all the races. Many were sensitive to the advanced magics that science had honed—most notably the light grid. That’s the reason I picked a rustic home in the middle of the woods. While having no running lights and no personal access to the Mind was a pain, I already set a deal with one of the fae cafes, Honey Cup, to compensate—a charm for Mind access without purchase. Today I was bringing them their replacement charm.

“Bright day, Witch,” the manager greeted me.

“Sweet day, Neighbor.” Neither of us called the other by name—we knew better than to ask. She’d yet to give me another name to address her so I used the standard placeholder. “I have your new charm.”

“Ooh, sweet indeed.” She skipped around the counter and took the bells out of my hand, then switched them with those above the door.

I took my usual seat near the back. Pulling out my tablet, I said a silent prayer before checking my mail. For over a week I had been doing research and trying to contact court officials, necromancers, and the Maardugos family. Part of my plan was set a couple days ago; now I was just waiting to hear back from Annika Maardugos—the woman Caera served. She was still alive, but her age made it difficult to travel. Thankfully, she finally responded to my last message inquiring about a virtual meeting since a physical one would be difficult for both parties. She agreed for tomorrow night at eight; perfect, because the other part of the plan would happened tomorrow afternoon.

After finishing up a few other tasks, I packed up and headed out. Just outside the café door, though, I ran into a familiar elf courier. “Sorry,” I said reflexively when I almost walked into him.

He chuckled and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. “Quite alright, little Witch. In fact quite fortunate. Here,” he took out a package and handed it to me. It was strange since I hadn’t ordered anything. “This saves the trip out to the woods. Though I must admit, I much prefer delivering to you at home than in town.”

A flush rose to my cheeks as I glared at the same smirk he wore when we first met. “Don’t expect that to be a common occurrence,” I bit. I dug out a couple coins to tip him and dropped them in his hand. “Thank you for the package.” He stepped aside and bowed to me. I gave him a small curtsy and walked past him. Just as I summoned my broom, a whirlwind whipped past me, throwing up my hem of my dress. I quickly tugged it down and turned back to the now-gone fae boy. Damn air elementals.

 

The next day I was a complete mess. I had a hard time staying asleep all night and ended up sleeping in. If it wasn’t for Caera shaking my bed so much around eleven, I would have slept through the important visit in a couple hours. After that, I spilled tea on my shirt, overcooked my breakfast, and couldn’t do anything decent with my hair. None of it mattered though. Today was about Caera. As long as everything else went well, I could handle some bad luck.

Ten minutes early, a knock came to the door. “Can you get that Caera?”

The door opened and two sets of footsteps entered my home. “Hello, Miss Witch. Spirit,” greeted one of the men.

“Welcome, Mr. Saund, Mr. Grove,” I bowed. They were a court magus and necromancer respectively. “Would you like any refreshments? Or shall we just jump into work?”

“Just Grove is fine. And work, if you please. Your case is rather… interesting.” Grove pulled up a chair to sit down at the table, but Caera pulled it out from under him, making him fall on his ass.

“Caera!”

Grove chuckled. “It’s fine. I’m glad to see she has so much strength still. You have everything prepped?”

“All set.” I hauled over a small crate and dropped it on the worktable with a heavy thunk. The contents rattled. “This was all I could find. Hopefully it’s enough.”

Mr. Saund nodded. “We’ll try first. If not, Grove should be able to locate the remainders.” He opened the crate and dumped out the contents—Caera’s bones. He arranged what was there in anatomical order and the metal tongue bar in front of the lower jaw. “If you will, Miss Caera, please merge with your bones here. Grove will help if required.”

Hissing filled my ears. “Please, Caera. Trust me.”

After a minute, Grove nodded to Saund, who then started casting the release spell for the bar. None of us were sure if this would work. No one had ever died with a tongue bar still enchanted. Dispelling one postmortem was a leap in new territory. Mr. Saund had been so fascinated with this predicament that all he asked in return was compensation for travel costs.

On and on the process went. Saund adjusted his spell as we went along, working around the old, modified spell; then again after Grove found a couple more bones in the woods. I could still hear soft hisses and moans, but I wasn’t getting the impression Caera was in distress. Surely Grove would mention if she was—he knew better than I did. Still, it made my gut sink that this was taking so long.

Then we heard a new voice.

It was just a quick, clipped sound but it was certainly someone talking. I exchanged looks with the two men and they clearly had heard it too. “Caera?”

There was a choked laugh. “Dear Witch,” she cried joyously, “you returned my voice. It’s been… so long.”

Grove erupted in laughter. Saund joined in and even I let out a few chuckles. But what hit me more was the tear-jerking bliss in her voice. It tugged at my heart. Warmth surrounded and filled me, making me flinch. “She’s hugging you,” Grove explained. It was a sweet feeling.

I would soon become very familiar with her phantom hugs.

After the men left, Caera was a complete chatterbox. She talked about everything. If it wasn’t for the joy singing in her tone, I might’ve been annoyed. It was a struggle to not ruin the surprise when she kept asking me what I was doing when I was setting up for Annika’s call. And with my first plan ending in success, Caera wouldn’t have to possess me to talk to her.

When the call started and Annika’s hologram appeared, the ghost went silent. Then Caera started crying in jubilation. I explained what had happened all those years ago to Annika while Caera composed herself. Once the two of them started talking, I excused myself and stepped outside to give them privacy.

It was a mild night. The sky was clear and the stars were bright. I paced around my garden, thinking about how it would look once everything was growing. This was the perfect place to do my work. Just a tad lonely…

Gold eyes watched me from the tree line. I tried to ignore them, but they kept following me even as I rounded behind my house. Think I’d rather stick with lonely than with whatever was out there monitoring me. Time to go check on Caera and Annika.

I walked back in when they were saying their goodbyes. I was surrounded with warmth again as Caera hugged me. “You’ve done so much for me, dear Witch. I could never repay you enough.”

“As long as you can pass in peace, that’s enough for me.” The words had an acrid taste as soon as they left my mouth. I didn’t want her to leave. Sure, at first I wanted to help her so she wouldn’t annoy me anymore. But now I’d grown to enjoy her company. I wasn’t going to force her to stay. I couldn’t.


	5. Ghost - Part 5

Vanilla and sugar wrapped around me. Sweet kisses trailed along my neck, waking me up. Caera’s form was above me, straddling me. It was raining again so her form was more stable.

“Dear Witch,” she purred and stroked my cheek with the backs of her fingers. “When you first came here, I wanted you gone. You disturbed my quiet home. Then, I desired your help. I wanted you to know what happened at the very least, even if there was nothing you could do about it. Now, I yearn to make sure you know how grateful I am for you going far beyond the kindness anyone else would have given me.”

Her touch warmed my skin. “Do you have a suggestion on how you’d like to do that?” I already guessed what she was offering; I just wanted to hear her say it.

“Let me stay here with you.” She kissed the hallow below my shoulder. “Let me be your maid.” She kissed between my breasts. “Let me serve you and all your needs.”

Mmh, her touch melted me. My thoughts were drifting already but my inner voice spoke and sobered me. Offers and exchanges always needed precise wording. “You may stay here with me peacefully as long as you please; you may work fairly as my maid as long as you please; and you may reasonably serve my needs as long as we both please.”

“How may I serve you right now, Mistress?” Damn, did it make me wet to hear her call me that while she was on top of me. Her ghostly hands slowly ran up and down my stomach. I shivered in bliss. She rubbed her thumbs along the inside curves of my hips.

“Keep doing this,” I breathed. I pulled my camisole off over my head. It would be interesting to hook up with a ghost. I bit my lip and ran my hands up her thighs. Well—tried to. I went through her incorporeal form, feeling nothing but warm air. This was slightly less sexy now. Her touch still made me tingly, but without our bodies being able to interact more, I was beginning to question how fulfilling this would be.

Caera must have had the same realization. She floated off me and knelt before the trunk at the foot of my bed. Of course she knew where they were. “Any preference? I’m not able to utilize _all_ of them, but there should still be at least one that I can use that will sate you, Mistress.”

I had a nice little collection of toys, but if this was going to be a regular thing now, I might need to expand. I wasn’t sure how well she could move things, so dildos were out; and I didn’t want a butt plug tonight. “Any of the vibrators should be fine.”

“As you wish, Mistress.” I closed my eyes and waited for the surprise of which one she picked. Would she go with the bullet to slide inside me? The rabbit to stimulate me inside and out? Or perhaps the powerful wand? Just thinking about it made me squirm in anticipation. “I’m sorry, Mistress. But I’ll need your help to turn it on.”

So much for surprise. I sat up and was delighted to see she picked the wand. There were also some silk ribbon on the bed beside me. I turned the wand to a medium speed—strong enough to drive me mad but weak enough to draw things out. Buzzing hummed in the air making me excited for what was to come. “Anything else?”

“Raise your hips, Mistress.” I did as she asked and she slid off my panties. She slid the silk ribbon under my legs. “Let me know when,” she murmured as she moved the wand against my clit. The initial jolt of vibrations made me gasp. When she found the right spot I whimpered. Caera let out a little hum of satisfaction and proceeded to bind my legs together and securing the wand in place. Even as I squirmed in delight, the wand held firm at the perfect angle, making me wetter and wetter each second.

Her hands slid up my sides and fondled my breasts. Her touch was warm and gentle, yet firm and confident from experience. One thing she did have over a physical person was she could phase into me. When her hands dipped into my body, it was something else—like hundreds of tiny shocks bursting through my skin.

She leaned down and took one of my breasts in her mouth. I bit my lip as a shuddered rocked me. My nipples weren’t normally so sensitive, but they weren’t normally so thoroughly stimulated. Her tongue glided around and through my nipple. Phantom teeth nipped at my flesh and tugged on my piercing, while her nails dragged down to my hip.

Oh damn was I close to climaxing. I let everything drift from my mind as I focused on drowning in the feel of Caera against my bare body; the sweet caress of her roving hands; the press of her tongue as she licked up my neck; the lust in her voice when she whispered in my ear, “Will you come for me, Mistress?” She reached her hand down between my legs and pressed inside me. My back arched as I panted and moaned from her ghostly touch teasing me from inside in a way no vibrator ever could. It didn’t take long after that. My orgasm built and crashed through me like I had ran and jumped off a cliff. I was left breathless and bucking my hips, quivering as the wand intensified every wave of my climax.

As the ecstasy subsided, I quickly switched off the wand that was now far too powerful against my sensitive clit. I lie still, letting my heart and breath return to normal. It had been so long since I had had an orgasm _that_ good. “Tell me, Caera. Did you serve Annika like this too?”

She chuckled and floated around my bed. “Not as much as I wish I had, but yes. She was very dear to me—as a friend, a lover, and as my Mistress of course.” She sat down next to me and placed her hand on mine. “Now I have a new Mistress that’s dear to me.”


	6. Orc - Part 1

“One teaspoon of lavender flowers, muddled. Three drop of lemon oil. And finally some orange zest,” I muttered to myself as I finished off mixing the potion for a new charm. I was working on a batch of cleaning charms today. Three of them were for regular customers—an elderly couple, a blind naga, and a werewolf family with seven hyper pups—I traded with for food; the others I’d sell off to various shops around my side of town. I poured the potion over the sponges I already had set in a shallow pan, said the enchantment, then cleaned up everything as they set.

Done with work for the moment, I made some tea and settled into my chaise lounge. Behind me came the thump of something falling to the floor. I knew what it was; that’s why I ignored it and continued sipping my tea.

“Mistress, it’s been six days. Are you really not going to look at the elf’s package?” Caera asked.

“Why should I?” I mused. “It’s not something I ordered; I don’t know a thing about that air elf save that he’s a pervert and a courier; and he didn’t even tell me anything about what might be inside when he gave it to me. There’s no reason for me to bother.”

“I don’t think you can fairly use ‘pervert’ as a negative against him, Mistress.” There was a wicked note in her voice. The way she purred my title had me clenching my thighs.

I took a long sip of tea. “I don’t appreciate being called out.” Her chuckle rang in the room. I picked up the box and put it back on the table. I’d deal with it eventually.

 

After delivering all the charms, I was making my way back when I saw a figure outside my house. I slowed my approach. It was difficult to see them clearly through the trees, but they were definitely large. I also caught a glint of metal in the sunlight. This could be risky…

My anxieties quickly fled once I passed the tree line and saw my guest was an orc. I’ve had a soft spot for orcs ever since the first summer after starting my certification training. Long story short: I found a dive bar with an incredibly sexy orc bartender.

“Hello. Sorry to keep you waiting,” I greeted him, jumping off my broom.

“No worries, Witch. You have a peaceful place here.”

“Thank you.” It was hard to not be distracted by how thick he was. He had lovely slate grey skin with undertones of lavender most notable around the scarification on his shoulder. I wanted to trace over the designs…

“Done staring yet?” he interrupted with a cocky grin.

I met his eyes with a blush. “What can I help you with?”

“Nothing too special. Just an enchantment to keep my tools sharp.” He adjusted the bag on his shoulder as he removed the axe he had mounted on his back.

“How many tools, and sharp for how long?” I inquired worryingly. Judging by his bulging bag, I had a feeling his tool collection rivaled my book collection. I had a growing suspicion that this was going to be more than he bargained for.

He rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly laughed. “Quite a lot. How long can you make the spell last?”

“For something like this,” I started and motioned for him to follow me inside. My broom followed behind him and floated to the kitchen where Caera started unloading today’s exchanges. “I would go with a shorter duration with frequent recurring applications, rather than the converse. Most find the cost more manageable that way since it can grow a bit exponentially.” I cleared off my dining table. “Place out all your tools on here.”

The surface quickly filled up. Most of the things I had never seen before and couldn’t even guess the proper names. I did recognize some chisels, files, saws—all in a number of sizes. There were even just blades and belts that were clearly a part of other contraptions. The rest were a mystery.

“I’m a carpenter,” he explained. “I do a lot of hand carving too.”

I hummed in acknowledgement as I looked everything over. At most, I’d set the spell for a year—barter off three months if need be. Now I had to figure out payment. Despite what most might think, a witch doesn’t come up with the cost of their magic; they can filter the _type_ of payment—like money or food—but the overall cost of the magic is determined by the Grand Scales. The Scales manifested differently for each witch. For me, I always saw an ibis sitting on its nest, then it would reveal its eggs to show me the cost.

“A year of perfectly sharp blades,” I mused as my fingers hovered over the orc’s belongings, “for firewood; four months’ worth. Due within six months of the enchantment.”

“I feel like I’m getting the better end of this deal.”

“Winter is right around the corner so it’ll be more than you think. Also, some of these tools you use far less than others. All in all, this is fair. I don’t care for luxury and overcharge my customers.”

“I can see.” He paced around the large open room and looked around. I watched him and noted his eyes lingering on the loft and the stairs/bookcases that led up to it. “Who did your addition?”

“Jealous that I went to another carpenter?” I teased and walked up next to him. He looked down at me and raised a brow. I felt like swooning under that gaze. “Maybe next time you’ll be the one I come to.”

He turned and faced me full on. It was a battle to keep my eyes on his and not drink in every one of his many, many glorious inches. I wondered what he saw, what he thought, when he looked down at me. “So how do you wanna do this?” Wait. _Was_ he thinking what I was thinking? “Would you prefer I started today? I could cut the wood here. Or I can chop everything at my shop and deliver it later.”

 “Well…” I started and floundered. Right. Business. I needed to get my mind back on track. Normally I could detach while working but he was just getting to me.

“Let’s start with you showing me where you keep all your wood. I would hate to fill you with more than you can handle at once.” Did he realize how he worded that? He _had_ to have worded it like that on purpose. Surely my face was flushed from lustful thoughts and he was reading me like a large-print book. “The name is Valzok, by the way.”


	7. Orc - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: bloodletting/ritual cutting mention

“Sorry for not asking your name before. Many of my customers don’t offer them—they hold power for most fae—so I don’t normally ask.”

“No worries, Witch.” His soft chuckle and warm eyes made me melt inside.

The rest of his visit was just business. Valzok checked my wood racks, did some math and figured out a delivery schedule that worked for both of us. He would be chopping the wood at his workshop and delivering it here; at least he’d bring it himself and not have a courier do it.

“Alright. It’ll take me the rest of the day to make the oil for your enchantment. Then a couple hours tomorrow to cast it. You can either leave your things here and pick them up at your leisure; or you can drop them off the next chance you get and kill some time while I work.”

“I can come back tomorrow afternoon if that works for you.”

“Yup. It’s a date.” Instantly I cringed. “Um—you know what I meant.” Today was going _great_. He only chuckled in response, stoking the fires of both embarrassment and desire within me. He packed up while I busied myself prepping ingredients. I knew my face was flushed. And I needed to calm down before I could stand looking at him again.

One day would be enough to compose myself right?

 

The first part of the potion was boiling steadily. It would take time to reduce. I wandered up to my loft and started looking through my things. Specifically, I started going through the trunk at the foot of my bed. Valzok was still flittering in my mind.

“What does an orc cock look like?” Caera chirped in.

I jumped and dropped the dildo I was looking at. I took a second before answering her. “I don’t even know where to begin with that.”

“So you have seen one, Mistress?”

“By the gods.” Slamming the trunk closed, ignoring the number of toys still scattered on the floor, I went back to the kitchen. The potion was nowhere near done and staring at it was not going to help. But I needed to distract myself from the conversation Caera was trying to force.

“Are they as thick as the rest of them?”

“Stop!” I groaned. She was only making my aching lust worse.

“Are their heads rounded or flared? Are they ridged? Do they have a—”

“If you wanna know so badly, why don’t you go fuck one then.”

“You know I haven’t the body for that, Mistress,” she crooned.

“Then fuck a ghost orc.” Her laughter echoed about the room as she drifted close to me. She was not letting this go. Two more minutes of her pestering and I cracked. “Moon help me—I haven’t seen an orc dick before! Okay?”

The silence was as bad as her laughter.

“Surely there are toys that—”

“Yes! Yes. There are realistic toys I could get. I could even just look up pictures. However, to do either of those I’d have to go into town to use the _public_ café’s _public_ Mind and I _really_ don’t feel like doing that.” During my rant, I knocked over a jar of herbs that dominoed into my candle rack, sending half of my mini tapers rolling off under my worktable. My sigh was close to a growl as I bent to pick them up.

“You could always ask the carpenter to see his _wood_.”

“What?!” I yelped. I also hit my head on the underside of the table—that’s what I get for trying to wrangle the fallen candles when Caera was in this mood. I retreated to the safety of the open room and cushy floor pillows. “What is with you tonight?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I know this is bold of me to say, but you have such a longing look in your eyes. I was merely suggesting sating it.”

“We just had sex a couple days ago!”

“Five days. Though I don’t think what we did compares to corporeal intercourse.” She wasn’t wrong. Thinking about it, it _had_ been some time since I got any actual action. However, I disagreed with her suggestion about Valzok. There was no way I could see him tomorrow and casually ask _Hey, wanna fuck?_

 No. Just—no.  


 

Valzok arrived right on time. I was halfway into my ritual headspace so greetings were short. And with how long this would take, I wanted to start right away. Once again I had him lay out his tools, though this time on the floor. “Once you’re done, feel free to go back to town. I’ll be done in about two hours.”

“Actually, if you don’t mind I’d like to stay and watch you work.”

I held his eyes for a second—they were such a lovely moss green—then nodded. If he really wanted to be bored out of his mind here then so be it. Made no difference to me.

I settled in. Prepping a cloth with the oil I made yesterday, I picked up the first tool and began anointing the blade. As I covered both sides of the blade, I cut my finger.

“You’re bleeding. Let me get you somethi—”

“It’s fine,” I stopped him short. “It’s actually a part of the spell.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.” He shifted in his seat with a firm set brow and frown.

I chuckled to myself and continued working, mixing my blood with the oil on the blade. “I wouldn’t do the spell this way if there was any serious danger in it. The cuts will be easily healed afterwards.”

“ _Cuts_?” he emphasized.

“Yes. I’ll make a small cut on my hands on each blade I anoint. Don’t worry; it doesn’t hurt. I took a tincture before you got here to make sure of it. And as I said: easily healed afterwards.” Despite my attempts to reassure him, he still seemed unsettled. It was always amusing seeing my customers’ shock when they see some of my magical methods.

I refocused and continued my work.

 

I zoned out for most of it. Towards the last third of my work I began noticing a loud, rhythmic thumping. I glanced around the room but couldn’t find any source of the intrusive noise. I did find that Valzok was no longer here. Curious. I finished anointing the saw blade I had in my hands before getting up and glancing out the window.

In front of my house I saw the orc in question chopping up a tree. Shirtless. I had no idea how long he had been out there—or where he got the tree—but he already had a good sweat worked up. Sweat wasn’t my usual thing. But right now—mmph. It was entrancing watching his muscle work. Seeing the way the sun glistened along his body. Hearing that feint grunt each time he swung the axe.

My axe.

Would he handle me as adeptly?

What would his moans sound like when he thrusts into me?

How soaked and scattered would my sheets get by the end of a night together?

Damn was I distracted. The longer I stared at Valzok, the further out of ritual headspace I slipped. And I still had magic to work… The only thing that made it possible to drag myself away from the window was the knowledge that the sooner I finished my work, the more of Valzok’s work I’d get to enjoy.

 

When I finished up, I was a bit disappointed to see Valzok back inside. Still shirtless, he sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, a near empty glass of water sat on the table next to him. His solid gaze fixed on me. “Done outside, or taking a break?” As I stood up I wobbled, hit by a quick burst of vertigo from magical loss kicking in. Just like the cuts, it was something expected and simple to correct. “Don’t give me that look. I’m perfectly fine.”

“She says as she bleeds all over the floor.”

I looked down at my hands. Okay, he had a point. It totally looked like I confused a pile of broken glass for bread dough—a dozen loaves worth of dough. Though I wasn’t quite bleeding _all over_ the floor; just a few drops here and there…and over there. “Caera.” Without delay, she retrieved my healing salve, a washcloth, and a bowl of warm water and placed them on the table. A couple minutes, a little magic, and I was good as new.

“See,” I said and turned. Valzok was already standing beside me. He grabbed my hands and inspected them, running his thumb across the backs. He flipped my palms up and traced down my fingers. It left me hot and shivering.

“You still almost feinted.”

“I just need to recharge. Some food and rest is all I need.”

“Then let me treat you to lunch.”


	8. Orc - Part 3

I was not expecting Valzok to ask me out. It wasn’t quite a date—he was still bothered by the toll my spell for him took on me—but this also wasn’t payment for magic. I was embarrassed to admit it, but I had very little romantic experience. The last time I was on a real date was when I was still in primary schooling. With everything I went through during that time…I left romance behind when I graduated.

 I let Valzok take a quick shower. It gave me time to dress a little warmer and some private time to outwardly panic. It wasn’t helping that Caera started being mischievous again like last night. She kept suggesting I put on some sexy lingerie, perhaps a sweater dress and thigh highs. Of course I didn’t listen to her.

“Uh, Witch. Where do you keep your towels?” Valzok called from the bathroom.

Crap. Did I not give him one? Living alone, I never really had to make sure I kept an extra available for any guests. “One second!” I quickly grabbed one of the three towels I owned and rushed downstairs. I knocked on the bathroom door. “Sorry about that. I don’t normally have guests who use my shower.”

The door cracked open and I caught a sliver of his body. He definitely noticed my ogling before I averted my gaze. “You sure you weren’t just hoping to catch a glance?”

“No!” I defended and crossed my arms. That wasn’t my original thought, but it was definitely in my thoughts now. “If all I wanted was to see you naked, I would’ve had that be the payment for your spell.” Silence stretched between for a couple seconds before he closed the door again. Fuck. That didn’t come out how I meant it. The “date” hadn’t even started yet and I was already ruining it.

 

After we were both ready, we walked through the woods towards the town. His horse refused to walk into my woods—a common thing I was warned before buying my house—so we agreed to walk the distance out, then he’d ride his horse and I my broom since the place he suggested was on the opposite side of town. At first the silence between us felt awkward, my nerves still being riled from the towel fiasco. But the deeper we walked the more comfortable I grew. This was nice.

We caught the post-lunchbreak lull at a nice industrial styled brasserie. Before I could even glance at the menu, a cervitaur approached the table. “A bit early for you to be in here, Val.” He placed a hand on Valzok’s shoulder then turned his smile to me. “I’m Citra, the owner.”

“Pleasure. Call me Witch.”

“Ah, so you’re the new witch I heard moved to the woods. How are you enjoying it here in Arvos so far?”

“I’ve settled in well. Business is growing faster than I expected. I haven’t had much of a chance to explore the town.”

“I’m sure Val here would be happy to help show you around.”

“Citra,” the orc warned his friend before changing topics. “Have you asked Elaly yet?”

He laughed and smiled even brighter. “She said yes. And she loves the ring too.”

“I carved their engagement rings,” Valzok explained.

“Wow, I didn’t know you made rings too.”

“Ha! You name it and he can carve it. A lot of folk around here actually got their rings from him. Once they saw his, everyone wanted one.”

Saw his ring? I glanced down at his hands but there wasn’t a ring on either. Guess he no longer wore it. Now I was curious to see the types of rings he carved—I might even commission some for spells.

“How about you get us some drinks already, Citra.”

“Right, right. Regular for you I suppose. And what can I get you, Miss Witch?”

My anxiety spiked and I quickly skimmed the menu to find any drink option. “Umm…  Apple cider.”

“Warmed?”

“Yes please.” He nodded and left us. “So you’re friends with the owner?”

Valzok rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, we’ve known each other since we were kids. I did all the woodwork for this place actually.”

“Bragging now?” I teased.

He grinned. “Maybe a bit.” A beat passed and his smile faded, his eyes turned down. Something was eating his mind now. Did it have to do with Citra? I noticed he became tense shortly after he approached our table. We both remained silent until after our drinks arrived. “Are you still wondering about the rings?”

So that’s what had his mind wandering. “A bit. I’m curious to know how such large hands craft such small, delicate things.”

After a slow inhale, he took off a necklace. I never noticed him wearing it before; he kept it tucked in his shirt. The couple times I saw him without a shirt, he didn’t have it on. He passed it to me. On the chord were two wooden rings. Both were too large for even my thumb. While one had more intricately carved knot work, the two matched. I was beginning to guess what these were. I handed them back to Valzok and quietly remarked, “They’re lovely.”

Perhaps he read the realization on my face. Perhaps he wanted to avoid the topic as much as he could. Either way he didn’t say any more about them. I didn’t dare say a thing either. This was awkward enough without forcing a conversation about his ex-wife. Good thing we both had alcoholic drinks to loosen our nerves.

The rest of our late lunch was quite enjoyable and by the end, as we were walking back through the woods to my home, I almost forgot about that nagging detail that had shattered my fantasies about Valzok. But as I helped pack up his tools, those rings slipped out from his shirt as he leaned too far forward. He quickly grabbed for them, hid them. I pretended not to notice. We said our goodbyes with smiles on, but once the door was closed mine crumbled.

I spiked some hot cocoa and curled up by the fire.

Caera pulled over a blanket and the warmth of her ghostly hug wrapped around me. “That bad?”

“No and yes.” I took a long sip. Ugh, I spiked it a little too much. Or maybe I didn’t mix it well. I didn’t care enough to fix it. “It was a lovely time—practically a proper date. But he was married.”

“Do you not like widows and divorcees, Mistress?”

“No, that’s not it at all,” I sighed. “He’s an _orc_ , Caera. While I’m not fully versed on orc cultures, I know many factions have laws that basically mean once they marry, they’re only ever with that mate from then on—even if their mate dies. So Valzok—not gonna get with anyone else.”

“He seemed to flirt with you though.”

“Flirting,” I clarified, “is very different than sleeping with.”

I had almost finished off my cocoa when Caera chirped up again. “So are you still going to get the orc dildo, Mistress?”

I burst out laughing. Out of everything she could have said in this moment… “Dildo it is then.”


	9. Arachne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story contains rope bondage

When moving to Arvos, I had to say goodbye to a handful of regular customers. Only one of them had agreed to travel the distance to my new shop. Mosaiko was an arachne—a spider-human hybrid—and she visited me three times a year for a transmogrify talisman. The payment: rope play.

The first time she came to me I was curious when the Scales showed me the bondage option. It was the first time I had seen such a specific kinky payment. I had to ask her about it. My insight surprised her, but she then gushed about her work. Mosaiko was a professional rigger—had been for six years. She even makes and sells her own rope. After a bottom turned stalkerish, she looked into various ways to keep her professional, kink life separate from her private life. She had gone to a few others before being recommended to me.

And so, for a talisman that would allow her to shift her form at will, we’d have a sensual kinbaku session.

The shop stayed closed today. I also gave Caera a talk about how she needed to behave while Mosaiko was here. There had to be no interruptions, nothing pulling my attention away. This was one spell that required fine focus.

I cleared out a large space in the center of my home. Then I went to work lighting candles and incense. Soon the room balanced the scents of cypress and bergamot, sandalwood and coconut. With the room set, it was time to change. Tonight’s outfit would be simple: fishnet stocking and gloves; skater skirt; a corset with lacings in the front and back.

They wouldn’t be staying on long enough to matter.

When Mosaiko arrived, I greeted her with a deep curtsy. “Welcome Madame.” She walked in in human form, but once inside she shifted to her usual spidery self. The candlelight made her translucent peach skin glow, a stark contrast to the stripe on her chest—a striking mark, as if someone mixed blood with ink and made a giant brushstroke down her front. The same rough stripes banded her legs and arms.

She took a moment to look around the room. “Hello, Witch. Quaint place you have now. The exposed rafters are very nice.” She walked up to me and lifted me chin and slowly ran her thumb over my lips. “Are you ready to start?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“Good,” she smiled as she pulled the ties on the back of my corset tighter. I gasped then bit my lip. I hadn’t even noticed her reaching around for them. She slowly let the ties relax again. “Are there any rules we need to adjust?”

“No, Madame. Everything from before is still fine.”

“Then strip.”

A simple yet firm command. She stepped back and settled into the floor pillows, relaxing for the show. I was a tad disappointed she didn’t play with my corset more. Then again, it was good to switch things up, and who knew what I was in for tonight. I untied the laces and pulled the garment off over my head. However, I didn’t get to fully remove it.

When I was pulling the corset over my head, it suddenly tightened around me, trapping my arms above my head and blinding me. Mosaiko trailed her legs over my exposed skin, tugged at my fishnets, stroked up between my thighs. This was the thing I loved most about scenes with her. Having eight spider legs and two regular arms made it easy to fall into the mind fuck of multiple people groping me when only one was.

She unfastened my skirt and let it fall to the floor. Now began the next stage in teasing me. She began pulling a length of rope across the backs of my thighs, slowly raising it up to my butt as she did. The rope wrapped around and dragged diagonally across my stomach. There was just enough tooth biting at my skin to make my nerves shiver in delight.

As these heady sensations wrapped my mind, she tied a harness around my hips. She removed my corset, freeing my arms and sight, and began working on a chest harness. She was getting me hooked on suspension a bit more each scene we did. My excitement ratcheted up just thinking about it.

With my kink bikini—as I enjoyed calling it—now on, Mosaiko simultaneously tied my wrists and ankles, each with simple cuffs. I couldn’t tell you the names of the ties, but I did know they weren’t the ones she typically used for suspension—of course she’d make me wait until the end for that. I knew she had a subtle sadistic side, but that never made it less frustrating.

“Move over here,” she said and tapped a foot where she wanted me. “Stand in tree pose.”

I obeyed. After our first meeting she recommended I get into yoga; it made for many more fun positions for her to tie me in. She circled around, taking her time in deciding which part of my body she wanted to tie up next. My foot to my thigh? My arms to my chest? Maybe even my arm to my thigh?

First, she looped a piece of rope already secured to the rafters through the loops of my wrist cuffs, pulling my hands just above my head. It was only meant to keep my arms out of the way. She moved on to the foot pressed to my thigh. She attached longer lengths of rope to the free ends from the cuff. Now with a workable length of rope, she started binding my leg and thigh together.

Mosaiko pulled my heel up as high as I could comfortably manage, then worked on spiraling the rope tightly around my bent leg. When she got to my knee, she started looping it down one side of the bands she just made. Then she slipped the rope between my thigh and ankle, repeated the loops up the other side, and continued the pattern diagonally down the top of my thigh, neatly tying it off where she started.

I loved seeing my skin bulge around the pressing ropes. It didn’t feel like this tie would leave any bruising behind, but surely something else would.

“Your balance has improved,” she noted.

“You give me a good reason to keep in shape.”

A beat after my answer she grabbed me by the jaw, her fingers digging into my cheeks. “Excuse me?” She always demanded respect from her bottoms, making sure they addressed her properly. I hadn’t forgotten; I just have a brat side. I repeated what I said, this time adding her honorific to the end. “Better.”

As I balanced on one leg, Mosaiko freed my arms from their temporary suspension and bound them together behind me. She didn’t take care to be as gentle this time. I had to push my shoulders back as she tied the rope the full length of my arms. She really was testing me today.

And then she pushed me more.

She pulled a length of rope across the back of my neck, proceeding to tie a short leash. Slowly, she pulled the leash down and my arms up until I bowed with a straight back. She tied the leash to the cuff around my planted foot. This was how I spent the next few minutes, precariously balanced.

“Should I make you stand on your tip toes?” she crooned and stroked my cheek.

“It almost feels like I already am, balancing like this, Madame.”

She hummed to herself, giving me no hint towards her thoughts.

Mosaiko unbound my leg as swiftly as she had tied it up. It was nice to stand on two feet again. And I was going to get to enjoy it for a while since she started binding my legs together. She started at my hips, attaching a new rope to the center of my harness. Soon my legs were wrapped together with diamonds.

She finally released the tie from the leash to my ankle. I didn’t mind having to stare at her lovely work, but I obeyed her gesture to stand upright.

She walked over to the bed of pillows and settled in. “Walk,” she smirked as she gave a little tug on my leash.

Wicked Madame. I could maybe waddle half a footstep at a time. And I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to pull my leash more. I took a breath. This was a simple enough challenge. I started my frustrating hobble towards her. Every three to five steps, she’d give a little tug. Balancing was a struggle. It wouldn’t have been as bad if my arms weren’t still bound behind me. But without them to steady myself, I soon fell.

She caught me—I knew she would.

“Unable to follow orders? She condescended. Being bound in her rope and grasp left me vulnerable. She carried me back to the center of the room and laid me face down. A helpless worm trapped in a web. That’s what I felt like.

And I relished it.

Finally Mosaiko unbound my arms. She ordered me into the downward dog pose—a bit of a challenge with how restricted my lower half was—then slowly unbound my legs. Then she had me move into child’s pose, my legs just slightly parted, and made me sit up on my toes. This was to make it easier for her to tie my ankles and thighs together. Unlike before, it was just a simple tie to keep my legs bent.

At the same time, Madame tied my wrists together. She pulled them up behind my head, secured them to my hip harness, leaving me completely curled up. She skimmed her legs down my back. The light touches made me want to squirm madly but the ropes refused to let me.  

I needed a bit of help when she asked me to lie on my stomach next. Now I was in full hogtie position. But she couldn’t leave me just like that. Oh no. Mosaiko took the extra step and splayed my legs apart, putting my sex on full display.

She messed with the ropes along my back for a moment, and then I was in the air. It was a delightful rush to be suspended without warning. “Keep those legs open,” she commanded. “Or will I have to tie them open?”

I mean… if she was offering. It was no trouble to me to keep them spread wide for her, but I also liked the idea of more restraints. We both knew that. Without waiting for my answer, she decorated my legs in more ropes and knots, and tied off the ends to opposite rafters.

Mosaiko cupped my chin and leaned in close. The candlelight brought out the flickering wickedness in her eyes. “Now that you’re all warmed up, shall we begin the real fun?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the exact ties I envisioned when writing this all out—my primary reference for ties was theduchy.com (not sponsored) but I did look through various other resources. If you want to replicate this scene, please do your research and practice safely, and feel free to substitute, add or remove ties to fit your abilities. 
> 
> Rope Ties Guide:  
> \- Swiss seat  
> \- Suspension shinju  
> \- Somerville bowline (with short ropes, just for cuffs)  
> \- Extend rope on one ankle for spiral futomomo  
> \- Dragonfly arm binder  
> \- Leash into ebi  
> \- Karada hobbleskirt  
> \- Frog tie


	10. Hamadryad - Part 1

Golden eyes started appearing more often in the woods around my home. Sometimes they would quickly vanish once I noticed them. Sometimes their stare lingered. Neither threatening nor friendly, my curiosity was turning insatiable to figure out to whom or what the eyes belonged. Time for a little research.

Curled up at Honey Cup café with my favorite tea, I searched the Mind for local lore. I found some interesting tales of hauntings and a few trickster sprites, but nothing about gold eyes in the woods around Arvos. I moved on and looked up all lifeforms that can have the unique eyes I was seeing. Even when I narrowed it down to those with one pair, forward facing, circular pupil eyes, there were a _lot_ of species to go through.

This wasn’t working.

“Trouble, Witch?” Honey, the owner, asked.

She was a sweet pixie. Recently we grew friendly enough that she gave me a proper name to address her by—a major thing for a fae to do still. She sat down across from me and tilted her head inquisitively.

“You’ve lived in this area for fair time, right?”

She shrugged. “Fair enough I suppose.”

“Do you know about golden eyes in the southeast woods?”

She drummed her nails on the table. “Could be anything from a fae to a shifter. What does it look like?”

“I don’t know; I’ve never seen more than its eyes staring at me through the woods. I kinda wanted to figure out if it would kill me or not first before getting too close.”

Her laughter was like little bells ringing. “Understandable. Though I think it would have attacked you by now if that was its aim.”

“Who’s attacking our dear little Witch?” I glanced up over my shoulder and met the sparkling smile of the air elf courier. Of course he’d be here too.

“Some mysterious gold eyes watching me from my woods,” I replied. “I would guess that it’s you but you’re eyes are the wrong color, and you’re too bold to keep your distance.”

He touched his hand to his heart a bit dramatically. “I’m so flattered that you pay such attention to me.” Both Honey and I rolled our eyes at him. “I believe I know who you’re talking about though. I’d be happy to tell you if you finally have an answer for me.”

“Answer?”

His smile faltered. He stepped around the table and took the seat the manager sneakily vanished from. There was a glow rising in his eyes. “Have you still really not opened my gift?”

“You didn’t tell me if was a gift; you just handed it to me. And I have been a bit busy, I’ll have you know.” He raised an eyebrow and reclined back in his chair. Okay, yeah, they were weak excuses. They weren’t lies though. “I might also still be a bit upset about our first meeting—or really how you won’t let me forget it.”

His smile returned. “Might want to ignore the last part of my note then.”

Now it was my turn to glare at him. Why was I bothering with this infuriating creature? “So you know about my voyeur?”

“Perhaps,” he mused, examining his nails.

“I promise I’ll open your gift once I get home. Now please share what you know.”

“He’s a dryad. Probably one of the oldest beings around here. He’d only harm you if you posed a threat to him or his forest. If I had to guess, he’s just watching you to see if he can trust you or not.”

It made sense. I’d be wary of any newcomers in my territory too. “Any suggestions on how to make friends with him?”

“Hug a tree? Kiss a flower?”

I chortled and almost spat out my tea. “Wow. So insightful.”

“Right? I was thinking of quitting this courier gig and becoming an advice specialist.”

 

The next morning I saw the dryad again. I had risen early because I just could not stay asleep. So instead, I wrapped myself up in a blanket, hopped on my broom, and floated above my home to watch the sunrise. After the sun was fully above the horizon, I drifted back down. As my broom turned back into its convenient charm size, I saw the golden glint in the tree line.

I kept calm. I didn’t want to scare him off. I slowly turned to face him front on then bowed low. The fae bobbed his head down in acknowledgment, giving me courage to slowly approach him. As I got closer I realized why his eyes always seemed to be disembodied and vanished so quickly. His body—his skin, looked exactly like bark. It was dark with long, deep furrows like an oak tree. At the back of his head rose a number of short branches. Of course he’d have a crown.

“Greetings, Neighbor. You may call me Witch.”

A chuckle rumbled from him. “Yes, I know who you are.” His voice was rich and deep, reminiscent of distant thunder. “Tell me, Witch: why did you choose to come here?”

Ah, a test already. I had to be careful with my answer. And though I wanted to take my time to think it out, I knew I couldn’t keep him waiting either. “My previous home grew undesirable. I chose to live there for the wrong reasons. Here,” I slowly looked around at all the woods, the field, my small home, “I thought well and good before coming here. I am both isolated and near a fairly large town. This home proves idyllic though I know many who would disagree. But I don’t mind being off the light grid; it allows me to work with more beings. Other than those explainable reasons—this place just feels… right.”

The dryad slowly circled me as I gave my answer. The moment felt tenser than my certification exams. Silence dragged between us well after I finished speaking. Was he displeased with my answer? Did he want me to somehow elaborate more? Because I couldn’t. I tried thinking of more to say but no more words were coming to mind. There was a fuzziness around the edge of my mind. It felt as if we were just hovering in time like a humming bird. Moving but still.

Then it dawned on me what I was actually feeling. Harmonizing with nature, my body was slowing down to the earth’s rhythm. Now that my mind wasn’t racing with the anxiety of possibly insulting the dryad, I slipped further down into the trance. He had done something to trigger it, I was sure. This felt more like he was guiding me than the earth calling me itself. Then in my mind came the image of an enormous, wide tree. Ancient yet filled with life. The span of it was comparable to the size of the field surrounding my house.

“I have a proposition for you, Witch.”


	11. Hamadryad - Part 2

The dryad approached and stopped a step in front of me. His gaze was hypnotic at this distance. When he took my hand, I felt a hot rush of power flux through me. This was no normal dryad I was dealing with. “You’re a hamadryad, aren’t you?” I murmured.

“Perceptive.”

“You…” My heart rate started picking up. The longer he held my hand the more uneasy I became. That tree that I saw was him. He lived as long as his tree stood, and it had been standing for tales of time. “You have so much power—what could you possibly ask from me?”

He pressed my hand to his chest. It was strange feeling a heartbeat from one who looked so much like a tree; to feel his deceptively smooth skin. “I would ask you for your protection.”

“Protection from what?”

“That I am unsure. There have been trembles in the world roots. I fear there might be something on its way. Regardless, the safety of my heart is always of concern. Especially when there is a surge in power around my home.”

“You know my magic comes at a cost.”

“As does my humbleness.”

What? What was he implying? I pulled my hand free and squared my shoulders. This was beginning to take cold turn. “Speak frankly, hamadryad.”

“I do not enjoy pests in my home.”

“And I do not enjoy being threatened.”

“Neither do I.” The forest appeared to close in around us, towering higher than before, suffocating my strength. I was not prepared to pony up for a game of chicken. “I’m sure we won’t need to get that far.”

“Let’s barter terms then.” I yanked the charm off my necklace to summon my broom to sit and hover on. Instantly I felt more in control, more grounded despite no longer touching the ground. “What level of protection are you looking for? How exactly am I to protect you?”

“Am I correct to believe sensitive information will be permanently non-disclosed?” I nodded and he continued. “Your residence overlaps the plane where my tree lives. I was able to move it there thanks to a witch long ago. However, that spell is waning. I’m not sure the effects the reincorporation into this plane will have on my tree—or your house. And I prefer my tree to be inaccessible to others.”

Yeah no, I didn’t want to find out what would happen either. I was sure it would be terrible for everyone. The real question running through my head was how in all the worlds did I fix this? I couldn’t just _refresh_ the old spell. Every witch had their own signature embedded in their magic, a fingerprint impossible to copy. Only the caster could recharge a weakening spell.

I could break and recast the spell. However, I didn’t know the exact spell used before; I doubted the hamadryad knew either. If I supplemented a different one, there was a small risk of causing him shock. “Do you remember anything about the spell?”

“It was called _garrán i bhfolach_.”

“Oh. Well.” That was extremely helpful—and literal. “That makes this easier. Still, I’m going to need time to prepare. And I’ll still need payment of some kind. Is there anything you’d rather—”

“How about ichor?” he butted in. My jaw actually dropped as I gawked at him. Ichor was such a rare resource it was considered a fable. He chuckled at my reaction. Stepping closer, he ran the backs of his talons down my cheek. “You may have it, though you have to collect it through your own means.”

There was trickery in his words. “And how do I do that?”

His wide grin revealed a mouth of sharp fangs. Funny—I didn’t realize trees were so carnivorous. “Do you know what exactly ichor is?”

“The blood of ancient magicals?”

“That is one type.”

Type? There were multiple types of ichor? My mind began racing with questions about what they were, if each kind had different properties, different influences. It all came to a halt when I wondered where each source came from. If one was blood… I wasn’t sure I wanted to know about the others anymore. I asked cautiously, “Is that the type you’ll give me?”

“No.”

“Then what is?”

His claws trailed down my neck, down the center of my chest. “My ichor is more,” his fingers spread across my thighs, “sacral in nature.”

By. The. Gods. Was he for real? The _ichor_ he’d pay me with was his—I mean I guess it was on par with what I accepted. I just wasn’t expecting it. Nor was I expecting all the caressing right now. You’d think there was braille on my legs that he was trying to read with how much he smoothed over the thin fabric of my nightgown.

We had gone from polite to aggressive to frisky in the matter of a minute. Boy the fae were exhausting.

“What’s your ichor best used for?” Like I said, this stuff was ultra-rare. I knew some general uses for it, but since I had not worked with, I wanted to verify with the hamadryad before I started using it and mucking up my spells.

“Are you accepting the payment?” He stepped back from me and placed his hands behind his back.

“Is that the only way you’ll answer my previous question?” He raised his chin. Why did I expect a real answer? I sighed. “How much are you actually gonna give me?”

“You may collect once a week for as long as the spell stands.”

“You need that much time to recover?” I quipped.

“The magic required to imbue my seed into ichor—yes.”

“So you have to intentionally _make_ ichor?” He tilted his head and leveled a gaze that screamed _bitch you know I’m not going to answer that_. I couldn’t help it; I was full of questions. “Fine, fine. I have work to do now. I’ll be in touch once I have things ready.”


	12. Hamadryad - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Alt pronouns are used in this section.  
> *Pronoun guide:  
> \- ve | he/she/they  
> \- vir | him/her/them  
> \- vis | his/hers/theirs  
> \- verself | himself/herself/themself
> 
> *Contains very slight non-con kissing (followed immediately by Witch calling him out on that bs; sometimes you gotta be impolite and stand firm to get any kind of change from an ancient fae, no matter how risky that is)

Every time I stepped into the archives, my heart danced. So much knowledge and insight and history. Wrenching myself out of these walls was always a chore; I could spend months in here, undisturbed, without noticing.

“Ah, Witch. Back again,” intoned Lybras, the head archivist. Ve was a dragon, who took a partial humanoid form while in vis archive—easier to move around with a smaller body. Though vis horns still proved cumbersome in certain areas. Vis scales were a brilliant turquoise, dabbled with navy and oceanic stripes, that stood out from the leather and paper books even in dimmest of candlelight. “What are we hunting today?”

“ _Garrán i bhfolach_. Or as close to it as I can get.”

Ve stopped mid motion and dragged vis stony gaze to me. “That is no simple spell.”

“I have no simple client.”

Ve harrumphed and organized vis work before standing and jerking a claw for me to follow. Deeper and deeper into the sea we waltzed. How such a large being in a secondary form moved so adeptly amazed me. I stumbled on a few stairs, misjudged a corner and banged my shoulder, and almost ran into another guest. It felt like five minutes before we finally stopped in the most solitary nook possible in the archive.

Towering at the end of a narrow hallway was a grand, iron door with runic reliefs. It was spelled to repel magics. No wonder it was so far set from everything else.

“It has been some time since I could certainly say that spell resided here, but it would be in there.” Lybras gave me a sidelong stare. “Are you certain about this?”

Less so than I was when I first came in here. Why was it such a restricted spell? I already figured it was a complicated spell but I didn’t guess this. I was beginning to see why ichor was a reasonable payment. “Yeah,” I halfheartedly smiled. “Let’s do this.”

“One hour.” Ve opened a small cabinet mounted on the wall and retrieved the rope and harness it held. It was secured to the wall at one end, and was long enough to reach anywhere in the vault beyond. Since the room drained magic, it was a failsafe to prevent death. Being closer to the mundane human race, I could survive longer in there. Still, it was not going to be pleasant.

And so began my hunt.

 

Nails hammered into my skull as my guts were pulled out through my throat. That’s what it felt like anyway. I was conscious of the pain wracking my body long before I regained any motor functions. Once I plied my eyes open, the world slowly pieced together. It was a fight to keep my eyes open for more than a second, but gradually I managed.

I was home. I didn’t recall how I got here. I was at the archive, searching for the hamadryad’s spell. My mind was too hazy to search for deeper answers.

“Mistress! You’re awake.” Caera’s energy flooded my body, making me shiver. She backed off but kept near. “A mielikki brought you home. And… you have a guest.” The sharpness of her final words made me concerned. Who was here, and why was Caera bothered by them?

“Who?” I managed to croak out. Damn talking hurt. I made a gesture and mouthed _water_. I felt her leave but before she came back—

“May I come up?” came the voice of the hamadryad. Ah. Now I empathized with Caera’s bitterness. It was his fault I was in this state. Partially anyways.

“Fine,” I rasped. He came up and perched on the foot of my bed just as Caera was returning with a glass of water. I struggled sitting up. He helped me. We locked eyes and it made me uncomfortable the amount of concern his face held. I mouthed _thanks_ to him, then eagerly took the glass hovering beside me and greedily drank it all down.

A beat passed, neither of us having any words to say. Actually I had plenty of words I wanted to throw at him, but I worried I’d be unable to rein my emotions and further hurt my throat by yelling.

“I can help,” he quietly offered. “With your pain and magic depletion, I mean. Though I’m not sure you’d be happy with it right now.”

My brow furrowed. I assumed he meant giving me some ichor, but I couldn’t piece together why I might be against it. He already revealed that there were different types of ichor; did he mean I wouldn’t like the kind he’d give me? Or was it the method of giving it to me? Perhaps both. With my luck, likely both. Despite my reservations, I nodded. I felt like hell.

He moved closer and I tensed as he drew into kissing distance. He hesitated. Did he sense my feelings, or was he nervous as well? I nodded again; at this point, kissing him wasn’t a big deal. A simple price for what he offered.

“Part your lips.”

Once I did, his _tongue_ —it felt more like a tentacle, or vine I guess with him—slipped into my mouth. I almost choked on the sudden syrup now filling my mouth. It quickly became too much. I swallowed awkwardly, not enjoying the coating it left in my throat. For a second my breathing strained as if the air was slowed by the syrup. Then I couldn’t breathe at all as his tongue slithered down my esophagus.

I pushed away from him to no avail; he grabbed me before I could get off the bed. I hit him and tried pushing him more but his restrictive grip prevented me from getting the power needed to fight him off. He didn’t budge or remove his tongue. Panic was setting in. What kind of healing method required suffocating the patient? Damn hamadryad. This is what happens when you blindly trust a fae this old.

Just as my lungs were starting to burn and ache from lack of air, a wave of cool, electric magic deluged me. And then I could breathe. I greedily inhaled as I cut a glare at the fae. After a minute of recuperating, I begrudgingly noted that I was indeed feeling perfectly fine, magic and all.

“Next time,” I groused, “give a girl some fucking warning and don’t suddenly suffocate her.”

“You agreed before asking the details of my method.”

“That’s not the point!” I knew he was right, but that didn’t mean he was _in_ the right. “Just because fae-logic dictates you don’t have to explain yourself freely doesn’t mean you can’t show some common courtesy. Especially when dealing with a _non-fae_.”

He stood up and glowered down at me. His eyes were molten with ire but I didn’t shirk away. “I can kill you right now.”

“But you won’t,” I called his bluff—why was that always the go-to threat for old fae? He didn’t answer, didn’t move; acted like I was the one bluffing. But he undeniably needed me alive. “I found the spell, by the way.”

That got a reaction from him. The flinch was subtle, only noticeable if you were watching for it. His shoulders were no longer pushed back in threat; his eyes were now cold and stormy. It was hard to read much else with his bark-like skin and centuries honed poker face. But I knew he realized his position now. “And you’ll cast it as soon as you can?”

“No. I’m not casting it at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up - the Hamadryad is a very slowburn character arc. He's going to have at least 6 parts, and will be popping up in other stories a bit like Caera does.
> 
> Also "mielikki" are magical bears; they're the most common paramedics/healers/doctors in this world. They're named after a Finnish goddess.


	13. Hamadryad - Part 4

“If you will not cast my spell, then what purpose do you serve?”

“Your. Arrogance.” This definitely wasn’t a time to laugh, but I still did. The pure fury in his face was such a delight. I rose, standing on my bed, and enjoyed making him stare up at me. “I will not cast _that_ spell. It’s an archaic, savage flaw of magic. I refuse to kill for you.” I jumped down and brushed him aside like a pesky fly as I made my way downstairs. “You may be flippant about the lives of others, but I am not.”

I didn’t have a goal in coming downstairs. I just needed to move. There was rage building in me—rage at the hamadryad, at whoever cast this spell for him before, at myself for getting stuck in this mess. I was also likely hangry as a result from passing out in the archive. I started craving a good sandwich.

The hamadryad joined me in the kitchen and sat at the table. I glanced at him, but he was just staring into the middle distance. Silence was preferable anyhow. After making myself a turkey, hummus and cheese sandwich, I sat at the table with him.

“I didn’t know he killed someone for that spell,” he finally spoke.

“From what I could tell, he likely killed many.” His alarm spoke miles. It also confused me considering he just threatened to kill me. Was he against killing or not? Whatever; let him be contradictory. “I’ve never seen a spell like that before—though it _is_ really old. I almost think it wasn’t a witch who cast it, but some other magical.”

“Because it involved killing?”

I nodded. “Life isn’t something we’re taught to use when working magic. For ethical sakes, and because it often causes weird lingering energies.”

He considered this for a moment. “Why do you think it was many?”

“Well,” I garbled then swallowed. “The spell is a type of pocket dimension. Magic and time naturally don’t exist there, so your tree wouldn’t have been able to survive and grow unless a connection was made to a dimension _with_ them. And unless he found some other way—he had to have killed people to establish the connection and repair it all this time.”

“I never questioned it back then,” he mused to himself.

I shoved my chair back from the table, the wood screeching from the force. “Of course not.” I took my empty plate and dropped it in the sink.

“He wasn’t fae,” the hamadryad spoke up. Anger was returning to his tone. “I had no reason to assume his magic might involve murder.”

“Your ignorance does not change fact,” I snapped.

The air instantly grew thick. All the wood around me groaned, responding to the surge of magic he was emitting. Everything shook. Bottles clattered; candles fell over; bits of herbs rained from the bundles tied in the rafters. I huffed a sigh and turned back towards him. He was out of his seat, squaring up, being as intimidating as he could. _Such a petty male fae_ , I thought as I rolled my eyes. I sauntered up to him, arms akimbo, and held his gaze until the room calmed down.

“Done with your little tantrum?” I sassed unnecessarily. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, but otherwise held his composure. Or so I thought. I felt a press against my back and legs; vines morphed out of the floor and snaked around me so I couldn’t move. He didn’t exactly restrain me, more so encaged. Still, this was not okay. I gave him another glare.

He leaned in closer. “You are one of few who have dared to address me without respect.”

“I do talk to you with respect,” I corrected him. It was unwise to push him further, but I wasn’t in the mood to let his aggressions simply go unchecked. “When you deserve it. And _this_ is not how you earn respect.”

He hissed and bared his teeth. Then he sharply turned, the vines around me instantly receding back into the floorboards. I silently watched him pace around the room. Was he really so vexed I wasn’t giving him my graces? Stubborn, old fae. Why didn’t he just leave? It would be a lot less trouble than staying here and arguing with me.

“How long until the spell unravels?”

That caught him off guard. He stopped and looked at me skeptically. “Vernalis.”

I hummed and nodded. “Should be enough time then.”

“For?”

“For me to find an alternative to this situation.”

“You’re still going to help me?”

His sheer surprise made me chortle. “Did you think your brute flash of power would scare me off? Please…” I scoffed. “It won’t be easy, but I’m still gonna try to find another way to help you. If I don’t, I’ll have to find a new home. And I like it here. Besides,” I went up to him and pressed my hand flat against his abs, a small smirk tugging my lips. “How many other witches can say they use ichor?”

His eyes narrowed. “So selfless in this endeavor.”

“Just being pragmatic.” I shrugged. I went over to my bookcase and casually looked over my tomes. I wasn’t looking for anything but I felt I had to do something. “I’ll let you know when I make progress.”

Despite my dismissal, he didn’t leave. More specifically, I didn’t _hear_ him leave. I turned around and he was simply gone. It was unsettling to know he could come and go so inconspicuously. With my nerves on alert, I glanced around the room, over and over, trying to place why I still felt off. Then I noticed the small, wooden jar on the table. That wasn’t mine. Next to it was a note.

 

_Health, cleansing, and root based magics  
_ _Vérus_

  
So he finally gave me a name. I popped open the jar and inside was a reddish, amber liquid. Magic wafted up from it, along with a woody scent. Wait—was this his ichor? Why did the hamadryad—Vérus—give this to me? I hadn’t done anything for him yet. Just the opposite, I did a good job pissing him off. By the gods, I hoped that wasn’t his kink. I wasn’t kink shaming him; I just didn’t want him to make a habit of provoking me into yelling at and degrading him. It was emotionally exhausting outside proper context and not a major interest of mine.

Still. I was grateful. The symbolism of this dual gift echoed deep. Perhaps it might even prove helpful in righting this dimensional dilemma.


	14. Elf - Part 1

For about a week, I had put off opening the mysterious box my elf courier randomly gave me. Apparently it was a present from him, though he had failed to mention that at the time. When I confessed to neglecting the box, he was understandably piqued. I didn’t mean to insult him; I seriously had no idea it was important for me to open ASAP.

Caera, wafted around me as I sat down, blade in hand, ready to open the gift. She had bothered me a time or two about it. Now I felt her excitement in the air as I cut the twine and opened the box.

First, I found a note. “ _A welcoming gift. I hope it’s to your taste._ _Perhaps I’ll see you at the Brumalis feis in this? Or not in this, whichever you prefer, Little Witch,_ ” I read aloud. I groaned and tossed the letter aside. He was never going to let me live down how we first met—I was naked and he got a good long view.

I pulled a dress out of the box. Made of black chiffon, it was a simple, sleeveless, shift dress sewn in panels to give the subtle illusion of a spider web. Okay it was actually really cute and seemed like it would fit. It was too sheer on its own, but I had plenty of options to wear under it. Feeling giddy, I decided to play dress-up.

This was going to be the first feis I took part in since moving to Arvos. I missed the Autumnal feis because I was so busy settling in and dealing with Caera’s mischief at the time. I still paid my respects, but there was no celebrating beyond enjoying a large piece of fudge and a bottle of delicious mead. For Brumalis, I was thinking of going no holds barred.

Brumalis celebrated the end of the harvests and marked the changing of the seasons to winter. Since it began the season of death, it was also the time when we paid respect to those departed. Grand festivals went from sunset the day before, to sunrise the day after. Both autumn and winter colors were popular. Blending the color schemes was equally as common as costume changes. However, multiple outfits would not be wise this year. I planned on getting wasted. I doubted future-me would have the coordination to successfully change clothes without any troubles. And I really did not want to risk ruining my new dress—even if it _was_ from a bothersome elf.

 

The next day, I stopped in at Honey Cup to grab a latte on my way to the archive. I had research to do and needed all the caffeine I could get. Plus, I was hoping that I’d be able to run into the air elf again so I wouldn’t need to track him down on my own.

“Sweet morning, Witch. You’re in here earlier than usual,” greeted Honey.

That was another reason I needed caffeine: I was up _way_ too early for the schedule I kept. Sleep eluded me half the night. I was even able to watch the sunrise for once today—it would have been lovely if it weren’t for my unexpected guest. “I feel dead inside.”

“Spiced tea latte?”

“Yes. In the largest size you can make.” I leaned on the counter and stared at the menu. I never took the time before to look at all the food options they had. Most were fruit or vegetable based pastries, along with a couple hearty soups for the season. The café was still slow at this hour so I wasn’t worried with holding up the line as I tried to pick something. “I’m torn between a berry tart and a veggie pot pie. Both sound amazing right now.”

“How about the pot pie for now and take the tart to go?”

“See this is why I love you. You let me indulge in all my cravings. It’s also why I hate you—for enabling my poor habits.”

“What kind of fae would I be if I didn’t tempt my patrons?” She smiled mischievously as she handed me my tea. The warmth of the mug seeping into my hands was bliss. I curled up in the corner of a couch and sipped, savoring the flow of this magical life-giving beverage at this unholy hour. Within a couple minutes she delivered my food to me too.

Never have I scarfed down any meal as quickly as I did that pie. I was fairly certain it was spelled to be more delicious than any food could hope to be. Then again, I _had_ been up for hours now with nothing in my stomach, so it might have just been my ravenous hunger. Still, it was heavenly.

“Hey Honey, how often does that one courier come here?”

Her eyes flashed up at me and the corners of her mouth tugged into a sly smirk. “Why the inquiry, dear Witch?”

“Don’t read too much into it,” I warned. “I just want to know if I should bother trying to run into him here, or just call for him at the postal court.”

She dashed over and flung herself onto the couch beside me—and partially onto me. “You opened the gift?” Her voice chimed with the joy of a child receiving the puppy they always wanted. It was a challenge not rolling my eyes at her gossip-loving reaction.

“Yes.”

“Well?”

“He gave me a dress and said he hoped to see me at the Brumalis feis.”

She jerked away, sitting up straight and cocking her head slightly. “Gave you a dress?” I nodded. “ _He_ , gave you a dress? He _gave_ you—and just wished to see you there? Not ask you there on a—what have you done to him?” she accused.

“What? Nothing! We barely know each other. I think we’ve maybe had like—three?—interactions so far. Maybe four. I didn’t spell him, that’s for sure.”

She pulled her legs up and wrapped an arm around them as she placed her thumb to her lip. “I’ve just never known him to be the generous sort like this. I’d thought he offer the dress as a bribe to being his date, not give it freely.”

Her insight played weirdly with my heart. The only notable thing that happened between the air elf and myself was me flashing him. Was that enough of a moment to make him act uncharacteristic? I didn’t think my body was that special—being a short, small chested, jiggly pear. It was nice thinking my natural self had charmed someone to such a degree.

My joy dipped as the Honey’s finger dug into my cheek. “Someone’s blushing!” she sang.

“I’m going to the post now.”

“Fine, fine,” she continued to sing. She jumped up and walked behind the counter to grab the little bag she prepped my tart in already. She handed it to me, along with a small tea to go, and waved me off. “But expect to dish the deets at some point.”

“Sweet day, Neighbor.” I switched back to the default fae-name to pester her as much as she had me. It only made her smile more.

“And a _very_ sweet day for you, Witch,” she winked.

The postal court was a bit out of the way from the archive, but it shouldn’t be too long of a detour. Not that the books were going anywhere. I had never been inside the building before and was a bit awestruck when I entered. Vaulted ceilings, towering columns, and rows and rows of equaling towering shelves filled with packages stretching back behind the large clerk desk bisecting the lobby.

Once it was my turn, I greeted the clerk and asked, “I was wondering if one of the couriers was currently in. Or if I could leave a message for him.”

“Courier number?”

“What?—Oh. Umm, I don’t know… his number,” I admitted. “I’m the witch from the southeast woods. Is there a way to see who has delivered there? He’s the only one that’s come by.”

“Don’t worry,” answered a voice behind me as a hand touched my shoulder. I turned to greet a familiar grin. “I believe I’m the one she’s looking for.”

“That was easy.” We walked off to the side of the lobby for a bit of privacy.

“I’ll come whenever you like, Witch,” he said and leaned against the wall. He pulled one of his vambraces out of his bag and started strapping it on his arm.

“Watch your words,” I slyly retorted. But we both knew he measured every word he chose well.

“Visiting me at work now,” the air elf said and reached in his bag for his second vambrace. “I might start getting the wrong idea.”

“I only came to thank you for the dress and accept your invitation.”

His eyes sparkled. “Perhaps I’m getting the right idea after all.”

“Oh, please,” I snickered. “I don’t know many people yet, and I’m going to be at the feis anyway. Hanging with you should be much more fun than partying alone.”

“Hmm. I prefer my own interpretations. Anyways, what color dress will you be wearing? We should coordinate.”

“What makes you think I’m gonna wear anything under the dress you gave me?” I teased, feeling my flirty side bubble up.

He raised his brow and gave me a knowing look. “Because as you’ve already demonstrated a second ago, you love destroying my fantasies.”

I shrugged innocently and took a sip of my tea. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see then. Or not see. Whichever I end up preferring.”

He chuckled darkly and traced his fingers down my arm. “Wicked, little Witch. You could kill a male with such trepidation.”

“Good thing I know how to dispose of bodies and am attracted to the other sexes.”

His laugh filled the room twice over, resulting in many looks our way from both employees and patrons. It sounded like summer, well into a still bright evening. He brought my hand to his lips. For three heartbeats, he kissed it. Slowly he brought his eyes up to mine and sent butterflies fluttering into my core. “Until the feis. Little Witch.”

I watched him leave and return to his work. The air felt lighter.

Brumalis was going to be interesting this year.


	15. Elf - Part 2

“I’m not sure about this anymore.” I posed in the mirror for the fiftieth time. I was having second thoughts about my wardrobe choice—part of it anyway. While the air elf was right, that I wouldn’t wear _just_ the sheer dress he gave me, I had picked out a rather revealing teddy to wear under it. The bottom half was high cut and velvet, ending just below my bust; the top was lace. It also didn’t fully cover my breasts—that was what I was having reservations about. My nipples were on full display. While I wasn’t the modest type, and the sheer dress I wore over it helped obscure the view, was it too bold?

Caera swirled around me and cupped my breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. “You’re lovely, Mistress. Perfect for tonight.”

Even though it wasn’t raining, she had more power today. It was the gift of Brumalis. Once sunset hit, many more spirits would come popping up. They wouldn’t be corporeal, but they’d be visible and have minor influences. Tonight’s wane in the barriers between worlds was why Caera was able to join the feis tonight.

“You’d say that if I went out naked.”

She clicked her tongue and drifted away. “That’s not the point.”

“While on the subject—I only plan on getting naked when I finally stumble home drunk and shower. _Alone._ ”

“I thought you had a date.”

“Not that kind of date.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she groaned. “He’s cute though.”

“Yes.” The outfit would have to do. I didn’t have time to find a new option. I went downstairs and put on my boots. I glumly added, “But I care about more than the superficial.”

Caera stood beside me quietly. I could sense her unspoken questions hovering about. I had never brought up this subject before; and I wasn’t about to now. I forced a smile, forced the intrusive memories from my mind. Tonight was not the night for such things. “Let’s go party.”

 

We met up with my date outside Honey Cup. He was chatting with Honey and didn’t notice our arrival until she turned her attention from him to us. When he looked at me, I couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. He stared dumbstruck for a solid beat before smiling and giving me a polite bow.

“You are breathtaking.”

“Thank you. I see we are in coordinating colors,” I said to him while looking at Honey. I wasn’t surprised that she gossiped to him after I showed her a picture of the teddy I now wore.

She shrugged. “Can you blame me? Anyways, who is this?”

“I am Mistress’s maid,” Caera answered and bowed. “My name is Caera. How should I address the two of you?”

_Thank you for asking for me_ , I thought. It had been killing me to have no name for him.

“Honey,” she answered, surprisingly offering a name already. Was it because Caera was a ghost? Or because she was closely related to me? I didn’t think more of it. The fae had their ways and I’d only drive myself mad sorting them out.

 “You may call me Aero.”

I suppressed a laugh. “Fitting.”

The four of us made our way towards the center of town, where the main festivities were set up. All sorts of vendors filled the streets and park. The air was heavy with scents of sweet and rich foods. Music melded with laughter and drunken cheers. There was so much going on; and I wanted to experience it _all_.

Honey was the first to leave us. She had a stall set up and needed to help manage it. She gave us some free chocolate covered blackberries, but they were so delicious I had to buy more before going in search of alcohol—insert obligatory _spirit_ pun here that we all groaned and laughed at. After confirming that the Flaming Pumpkin shot was literally set on fire, our hunt was over. Three shots might have been a bit much on a stomach containing only a handful of chocolate and berries. Still, they were tasty and appealed to my inner pyro.

Our drinks now downed, Caera drifted off on her own. There were spirit specific activities and she was excited to partake in them for her first time since her death. I’m sure she also wanted to leave me alone with Aero.

Fine by me.

I was enjoying Aero’s company more than I imagined. Talking with him was like catching up with a childhood friend—easy and filled with laughs. We sang and danced with the performers. We challenged each other in the carnival games; loser had to pay for the next round of food or drinks. It began feeling like a true date the longer the night went on. But it didn’t hit me until the caramel apple vendor said something.

“You two are such a cute couple,” the cashier gushed.

I faltered, almost dropping the food she was handing me. I couldn’t even correct her. Aero stepped in and finished the exchange. Without waiting, I claimed a nearby bench. As he sat down next to me he said, “That opposed to the idea of dating me?”

He was teasing, but that did not mean it didn’t strike a chord in me. “I’m not good with relationships,” I said bluntly. The alcohol was bringing out my uncensored, babbling side. “The last person I had this much fun with I wasn’t strictly friends with—well it was shit. It was an absolute mess and ended… gods, I can’t even say it still.”

Aero placed his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to say more.”

“It’s not fair to you.”

He got up then knelt before me. “Listen, little Witch.” Being eye level with him was discomforting, but he turned my face back towards him when I tried looking away. “It’s not a secret that I find you attractive. But I’m more than happy being _strictly friends_ with you.”

“Are you sure that’s not the alcohol talking?” I mumbled. He gave me a look and I sighed. “Okay, you being so understanding and cool about it just makes it worse.”

He laughed. “I will not apologize for not being a fuckboy with an entitlement complex.”

Now I was laughing. Just like that my haunting past was pushed away as quickly as it was brought up. I pulled him back up onto the bench and we finally started eating.

“Ssooo…” I started, then took a bite of apple while I found the rest of the words my drunk mouth obviously wanted to say.

“So?”

“Okay, so—what if maybe, I don’t know, what if we weren’t the… strictest, of friends?”

“Are _you_ sure that’s not the alcohol talking?” he mocked me.

I shoved him playfully. “Shut up. Just because I’m drunk doesn’t mean that I don’t mean what I’m saying. I promise you I will say this exact thing again when I’m sober. Though better.”

“Go on.”

“Anyways, so, I’m not against the idea of a friends with benefits type thing.”

“Greedy little Witch.” His mirth was almost cloying. He raised his hand to my face, his thumb swiping a bit of caramel from my lower lip. I watched him slowly suck it off his thumb. “What exactly do you want from me then?”

“To kiss you,” I answered reflexively.

He clicked his tongue. “You just want to kiss me because I taste like caramel right now.”

“Maybe.”

We both laughed.

“Alright. So kissing-friends. Anything else?”

I hummed for a bit, thinking. Then I took a bit of my apple. “That’s all I can think of for now,” I said with half a mouthful of chewed apple—drunk me was a delight like that.

He shook his head, a dubious smile lighting his face and crinkling his eyes. The world felt softer when he looked at me. Without another thought, his mouth was on mine.

Even without the caramel, the kisses were sweet and light as cotton candy. My mind drifted on a cloud gently blown by the warm winds he commanded. Did all air elementals make you feel this blissfully windswept when you kissed them? That was a question for future-sober me to ponder. Right now, all I wanted to think about was just how lovely this moment felt. It was a simple kind of romantic. Soft like a flower petal, with all the splendor of a grand garden. Calming. Grounding.

All of the kisses we shared that night held the same wispy feeling. Even with all the energy, laughs, and playfulness, even with more alcohol, we’d catch ourselves and keep the moments soft. A peculiar contrast for the festivities. But it was perfect.

Aero walked me home. We lingered in my doorway kissing more. Our hands roved over each other more from drunkenness and sleeplessness than anything else—his on my back and arms; mine on his entire torso, pretty much. As nice as it was, as much as I’d love to carry on longer, I knew I had to send him away. For my own good. And maybe a bit so Caera couldn’t say _I told you so_.

We said our goodbyes. I teetered to the bathroom for a quick shower. Then I crawled into my big, cozy bed and dreamed of summery fields and mountains and lakes until the afternoon.


	16. Elf - Part 3

“Dish, Witch.” Despite the café being packed with hungover patrons, Honey took the time to sit down across from me and hold my potpie hostage until I answered her. “How was your feis?”

“It was lovely. Now give me my food.”

She slid the plate over to me, a subtle scowl tugging at her features. “What did you two get up to?”

I savored a large bite, ignoring her until the cloying hunger ripping through my belly started to subside. “We kissed.”

“And?”

“Kissed more.”

She hopped to her feet, slamming her hands on the table. “That’s it? You kissed? You _only_ kissed? Ugh! You two are so frustratingly, disappointingly vapid!” She marched back to the counter and returned to her work. Her yelling made many people stare my way. I glared at them in turn until they looked away. Nosy gossips.

A half hour later, after I finished my food and handling some work on my tablet, I was standing to leave when Honey ambushed me again. She placed three bags on the table and beamed a deadly, manipulative smile at me. “Heading out, dear Witch?”

“Yes,” I answered simply. What did she want?

“Could you deliver this for me? The café is so busy I’m not able to make this delivery. You’ll be compensated of course.”

There were red flags all over the place, but I could at least hear her out. Maybe the payment would be worth whatever trouble this actually was. “What’s the offer?”

“Five pounds of chocolate covered blackberries.”

“Deal.” Curse her for getting me hooked on those. They were too good to pass up. She gave me the address and I was off.

I arrived at a lovely apartment building ten minutes away. _Lovely_ if you liked the neutral tone, nouveau riche look. I buzzed the apartment.

“Who are you?” They weren’t explicitly rude, but their tone still hinted at arrogance—or maybe that was my bias.

“I have a delivery from Honey Cup Café.”

There was a long pause. Then the door buzzed as it unlocked. _Oh, no problem. I don’t mind bringing it up to you_ , I silently sneered at them. Could they really not be bothered to come down themselves or just say something?

At least they were prompt in answering their door. However I was not expecting to be greeted by Aero in only a skirt—actually a plain sheet tied around his waist.

“Two gifts in one. How blessed am I?”

“You’re not who I talked to,” I accused. So he was why Honey had sent me on this errand. I should have guessed.

“No, that was my roommate and boyfriend. Come in, you should meet.” He didn’t give me the option to refuse as he pulled me inside.

Their apartment was open and airy, filled with a number of large, potted plants and even more candles. Incense hung heavy in the air. Aero dragged me to the kitchen then took the bags of food from me. He had half of it pulled out and on the breakfast bar when the boyfriend in question walked in.

“So you’re the witch I keep hearing about,” he smiled then bowed. He was similar to Aero in height and build, with the pointed ears of a fae race. His hair was pulled into a messy bun with a few errant blue curls in his face. His vitiligo perfectly highlighted the V of muscles dipping below his skirt—a proper skirt, unlike Aero’s. “Call me Willow.”

“Nice to meet you. Call me Witch.” I shot a pointed look at Aero.

With a roll of his eyes he said, “Yes, yes—sorry for not telling you sooner. Though as kissing-friends I didn’t realize it’d be such an issue. Unless you decided you want more now?” His coy smirk didn’t have the energy I’d come to expect. Then I noted how dark his eyes were. Did the hangover really hit him that hard? I guess I did have the unfair advantage of having made a rehydration and healing potion to drink before bed so I wouldn’t be a hot mess. All things considered, I let this laps in information go.

“Not today.”

He shrugged, having expected my answer. Aero pulled out my berries but I quickly snatched them up. He looked at me, offended. “Not going to share?”

“Hey, these were my payment for delivering to you guys. A delivery, I might add, I haven’t gotten a tip for.”

Now his smile was closer to his usual self. He stepped closer, sliding his hands up my hips then pulling me against him. “You want a tip?” His head dipped low, an inch away from a kiss. Part of my heart fluttered. Another part remembered that Willow was standing two feet away.

“Don’t mind me, love,” he dismissed, noticing my hesitation. He was more concerned with the food. “He’s done far more in front of me.”

Aero drew back. “Are you not comfortable with polyamory?”

“That’s not it,” I shook my head. “I’m fine with that. No—it’s more so that we just met, and I was completely unprepared for…” I gestured vaguely to all of us. “This.”

“At least we met like this and not when you had a minotaur balls deep in your ass.”

“What?” Where the hell had this conversation diverted to?

“You’re really gonna start with _that_ story?” Aero groaned.

“What better one to start with?” His boyfriend beamed wickedly. “Anyways, long story short, we met at an orgy. With a minotaur balls deep in his ass.”

“There are… _so_ many questions I have now.” And one hell of a mental image. “Should we be drunk again for this?”

“Gods no!” Aero protested. “I am nowhere near recovered and ready for another bender.”

Willow hummed and walked up behind him and kissed his neck. “That’s why Daddy is here to nurse you better,” he said as his lips trailed up towards Aero’s ear. The air elf had closed his eyes and melted into the other male’s touch. Willow looked at me. “Drink?”

There was no stopping the shit-eating grin on my face. I was learning so much about Aero today. “Sure. Juice or water, I’m not picky.”

We moved our chat to the living room and sat on the floor around a low table, the surface of which soon filled with food and drinks. Aero had no shame in dishing out more stories. They frequented a variety of BDSM events and some swinger parties. Aero was a complete submissive and enjoyed a number play types that I hadn’t even heard of. Willow was a caregiver, though never participated in any of the sexual scenes. His pleasure was in making sure everyone else was enjoying their time. They had many stories to offer, opening up an unknown world to me. And they invited me into it.

“Okay, while I am open minded, I am not sure an orgy is for me,” I conceded. Aero tried to steal a berry—he had managed five so far—but I slapped his hand away.

“Clearly ‘cause you’re terrible at sharing,” he dared.

“Pssh, no I’m not. You’re just a greedy berry thief trying to steal my hard earned pay.”

“Wait, no!” he said and snapped his fingers. “It’s because you just don’t like others seeing you naked.”

I picked up the nearest pillow and started beating him with it. “I thought. We got past. Bringing. That up!” I said in time with my hits.

“Back on topic,” Willow chimed in with a chuckle, not caring about the buffeting his boyfriend was receiving. “I wouldn’t start you at an orgy. Start with a private exhibition. Very controlled and small.”

“Mmmh… still not sure—aah!” Aero managed to snag the pillow from my grip. I lost my balance and fell into his lap.

“Would you prefer to watch me on the block first?” he offered. He leaned over and I met him the rest of way for a quick kiss. “Have some fun with me and get used to the audience?” He kissed me again.

“I thought we agreed on just kissing.”

This time the kiss lingered as his tongue danced its way into my mouth. He left me near breathless. “Scenes are different. What happens there, stays there. And you still don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

I couldn’t tell if the sparkle dancing in his eyes was him imagining me in the center of a scene, or himself with me topping.

“I’ll give it some more thought.”


	17. Orc - Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: masturbation

My next interaction with Valzok was, in a word, tenuous.

I didn’t see him again until a week after Brumalis. It was almost midday when a knock summoned me to the door.

“Sweet day, Witch,” beamed Aero. “You have a letter.”

“Goodie.” I opened a small jewelry box by the entrance where I kept a few coins and tossed one at him. I instantly tore open the letter, leaning against the doorframe despite the encroaching chill. My oversized sweater was spelled to keep me warm—it was one of the few selfish enchantments I allowed myself. “It’s an invite. Some vampire thing.”

“Going to be leaving me?” he pretended to pout.

I rolled my eyes. “Not soon enough.”

He placed his hand to his heart. “You cut so deep.”

“Get out of here already.” I gently pushed him away, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me against him. Even with winter teasing the air, it was springtime in his arms. His hand glided from my wrist to my fingers, then he pressed his lips to the back of my hand. I finally ceded a soft smile.

It wasn’t until he turned and started leaving that I noticed Valzok appearing from the tree line. I waved, he nodded. Behind him he pulled a sled of firewood for me. He side-eyed Aero as they passed.

“Hey stranger,” I greeted. It had been long enough since I last saw him that his handsomeness hit me as strongly as when we first met. Especially when he smiled. I couldn’t stop myself from mirroring the expression if I tried. And oh, I tried. Because he was widowed; and orcs didn’t date again after marriage. He might flirt with me, but he still wore his and his late wife’s rings on a necklace. And no matter how many times I fantasized about bedding him, I had to remind myself I had no chance. “Did you have a nice holiday?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing special.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, I now noted. I wondered what was bothering him, but didn’t ask—it wasn’t my place. Not that I had a chance to ask. He unstrapped the tarp covering the wood and picked up an armful. I jumped out of the doorway to let him by.

Things were worse than I first thought.

I took a moment to watch him as he mechanically filled the log rack. I did not like this version of Valzok. What was this shadow that loomed over him? I grabbed a few logs from the sled and joined him inside.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“What it is that’s bothering you.”

He hesitated, sparing me a glance, then left to get more logs. I waited inside. Hopefully I didn’t just push him away with my poking—I barely even butted my head in on the matter. Still. The thought that I somehow did something wrong weighed on me.

“Who said something’s bothering me,” he finally answered as he returned.

“You did,” I accused. “With how you’re acting.”

“Watching me that closely?” A smirked tugged at his lips. A bit of his old spark flashed in his eyes.

“Yes.” It was bold of me—perhaps too bold. We were locked in a stare now and all I could think about was kissing him. We were close enough that I could have my lips on his in a heartbeat. I wondered what his lips tasted like—what _he_ tasted like. I wondered how his tusks would feel brushing over my skin. I wondered—

“Excuse me. I’m here to see the witch,” someone called from the open front door.

I sighed and shook my head, mumbling, “Work never ceases.”

“I’ll pile the rest outside,” Valzok said.

“You don’t have to go,” I said, my voice still hushed. I really wanted this nosy customer to just turn around and leave so we could sink back into the moment.

“You have a customer.”

“I can turn them away.”

He seemed to considered it for a second before shaking his head. “Your work is important. I’m glad you’ve found plenty.”

 

Mr. Interruption proved to be an even bigger pain in my ass than I first gave him credit. He was one of those customers that was _super_ specific in what he wanted, and then when I would restate what he desired in more concise terms to confirm, he’d correct me and say it all over again. Then as I was working, he kept “reminding” me of what he wanted to make sure I did my job right.

At least the charm he requested was a quick make so I wouldn’t have to deal with him long.

After he left, I flipped my sign to Closed. I had no more energy for other people today. I opened my liquor cabinet and looked over my options. It wasn’t often that I’d start drinking this early—with the intent on getting drunk that is—but some people were just that draining. While drinking wasn’t the healthiest option, alcohol _is_ a disinfectant; so really I was just cleansing myself of any residual negativity Mr. Interruption left behind.

Today felt like a rum day.

I mixed up a drink then went over to my record player. I loved the sound of records on old gramophones; plus, no light grid needed for it. Combine some lofi jazz-hop with a nice drink and it was the perfect mood to unwind.

I swayed along to the music as I cleaned up my home. My work area had become neglected the past few days as I had focused solely on output. That might have also contributed to my unease—the physical chaos was disrupting the energy flow.

By the time I got to the sitting area, the rum had deliciously kicked in. My dancing became more full bodied and sensual, my limbs loose and feet only slightly stumbling. I picked up a couple floor pillows to shake them out. Underneath hid a small black box. _You don’t belong on the floor_ , I thought as I picked it up, discarding the pillows back at my feet. I was three steps up to my loft when I changed my mind. I didn’t want to put it away.

I opened the box, took out the dildo inside, and left the box on the stairs as I returned to the pile of pillows.

It was the orc dildo I ordered shortly after my date with Valzok. I even had it made with custom colors to match his skin tone—not that I’d ever admit that to anyone. I set it down on the table then stripped off my sweater and legging. Now bare, I shuddered and quickly settled into the bed of pillows for warmth. I picked up the dildo and began rubbing it against my sex, while my other hand fondled and squeezed my breast.

“Valzok,” I murmured as I began pleasuring myself. I teased the tip against my entrance, prodding maddeningly as my wetness built. I wanted to feel his mouth on my neck; to feel his tongue leave trails of goosebumps and his teeth test my flesh. A whimper escaped me as I plunged the dildo inside me. With my muscles still tight and the toy not lubed, I only managed a few inches in. I pumped it in and out until the shaft was slick from my juices and could easily slide in me until I was full.

My hand drifted from my breast down between my legs. My clit was aching for attention. I started rubbing it in long circles in time with the thrusts of the dildo. Getting swiftly closer to orgasming, my head fell back.

“Val,” I moaned his name again. If only his power was behind the thrusts. I wanted to feel his hot, hard cock slamming into me. So much better than this silicone replica. My rear rose up as I imagined him gripping my hips, holding me steady to really hit deep.

Fuck, I needed him so badly.

I was almost there. I could feel it swelling up inside me. The pleasure became my sole focus as I crept closer and closer to climaxing. _Oh fuck,_ I cried. _Fill me, Valzok. Please. Fill me—_ a moan shuddered out of me as my orgasm hit. My thighs clenched together as I shivered and squirmed and whimpered.

Damn I needed that.

I let the dildo slowly slide out of me on its own as I sprawled in the pillows catching my breath, muscles completely relaxed. My pelvic muscles still pulsed in the aftershock and I could feel my thundering heart beating in every inch of my body. I was a blissful mess. If only I had a big, handsome orc to snuggle against.

Then the outside world came crashing back in as someone cleared their throat—and it definitely was _not_ Caera.

I opened my eyes and near the doorway stood the man I just fantasized about fucking.

“We should talk,” Valzok said.


	18. Orc - Part 5

Never have I ever been more embarrassed than I was right now—than being caught masturbating by the one I was fantasizing about. Please tell me he didn’t hear me say his name. Oh gods, I prayed he hadn’t heard me moan his name.

Why was he even here? How did he get in?

“I’ll wait in the kitchen,” Valzok said and walked over to the other end of my one-room house that failed to give any privacy to freak out before confronting him.

“I’ll heat up some soup. Mistress tends to be hungry after.”

“Caera!” I warned. There was no need for her to say that in front of him. Shouldn’t a learned maid such as herself know to keep such things secret? I pulled my oversized sweater back on and walked over to the kitchen. Valzok sat casually at the table, spinning his rings around the end of his index finger. I sat opposite him. “You came back?”

“Yeah. These went missing,” he held up the rings, “and this is the only place besides my work I’ve been to. Your maid said you found them and let me in when I got here.”

“Oh _did_ she?” I glanced behind me to where I sensed her floating around. She was lucky she was already dead. “Somehow I get the feeling that she might have been behind their disappearance to being with, since I knew nothing about them.”

“Hm.” He tapped the rings on the table before sliding them off. Two thin, carved bits of wood caused so much muddiness between us. He raked a shaky hand through his hair. “You’re really confusing, you know that?”

My guts wove into knots. “How so?”

“After I took you to Laughing Grove, I thought you were no longer interested in me. But clearly…”

Yeah, clearly that wasn’t the case. I guess he had heard me say his name after all. “You were married. I wanted to respect that.”

He snorted and shook his head. “I should have guessed,” he sighed with a light laugh. “I take it you know of the old mating ways.” I nodded. “And I’m guessing you _don’t_ know that not all factions adhere to that, especially among the younger generations.”

“Oh.” I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Normally my general knowledge of so many other races helped in my line of work. Clearly not this time. But—was he saying what I think he was saying? His poker face revealed nothing.

“Now my question for you, Witch,” he said as he stood up. He walked around to my side of the table. I pushed my chair back an inch and pivoted to face him. Then I remembered I was only wearing a sweater and it was riding dangerously high on my thighs. Now that my desires were no longer secret, I felt bare under his firm gaze. “Do you still want me to fill you up?”

Guess I said _everything_ out loud then.

My cheeks heated as I failed to find an answer. I was not expecting him to be that blunt. But I didn’t need to answer. Valzok leaned down and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He lifted me up, cupping my ass, and carried me up to the loft. My head was swimming; I couldn’t believe this was happening now—though there were definitely no objections.

I nibbled his lower lip, rousing a growl from deep in his throat. His responding nails digging into my skin made me gasp. He took advantage of the moment and his tongue began dancing in my mouth. I tasted cinnamon.

Valzok lowered me onto my bed. But before he could climb on top of me, I broke the kiss. “Wait.” He obeyed and took a step back. “Sorry, it’s just—before we go any further, I just…” Ugh, why was I so tongue-tied? It shouldn’t be this awkward to talk about. I took a breath and slowly tried again. “I don’t really do relationships, so you know. I’ve had a rough past, so I don’t… like strings. Not now, anyway.”

It didn’t take long for him to think it over and nod. Then he tugged his shirt off as he answered. “I can handle that. We all have our pasts.”

He said a bit more but I stopped listening. His hands were far more interesting. I watched intently as he unfastened his pants, as his thumbs hooked under the edge of the fabric and pushed it down. His full, firm girth was proudly on display right at eye level. Longing pulsed between my thighs. Oh, how I wanted to hilt him already. But first I had something else in mind.

I leaned forward and took him in my mouth. He drew in a sharp breath. My tongue made slow circles around the head while I stroked the shaft, coaxing a gravely moan from him. Pleased by his reaction, I looked up at him from under my lashes. I held his gaze as I licked him from base to tip then popped him back in my mouth.

“Mmm… damn, Witch. You really know how to work some magic.”

I laughed—such a cheesy joke—and took him deeper in my mouth. I was barely getting started.

His fingers snaked into my hair as I continued to suck him. He held my head in place as he started thrusting in and out on his own. Oh no, that’s not how this was going to go.

_Silly boy, you are not in control_.

I tightened my hand around his dick and gently bit down in warning. He hissed and stopped; I relaxed my grip. My tongue soothed over the feint wounds I left. Hopefully for him, once would be enough to learn.

It wasn’t much longer until he gave in—not that I wasn’t impatient myself. Valzok pulled me to my feet and stripped me of my sweater. The press of his body on mine as we kissed again made the fires within me roar. It had been too long since I felt the sensual touch of another; I didn’t realize how touch-starved I was.

Val lowered us onto the bed, positioning me on top. I reached a hand down between us and took hold of his cock. I teased him along my entrance. He lifted his hips up, trying to press inside me, but I shifted my hips in turn to prevent him. Still had not learned from before, I see.

Breaking the kiss, I sat up and positioned his shaft if front of me. I held it in place and rocked my hips, continuing to tease him. “Someone doesn’t know how to not lead.”

He smirked. “Prefer being a dom, I take it?”

I shrugged. “I’m flexible; it all depends on my mood. And my mood right now…” With a wave of my hand, silk restraints—still tied to my headboard after a night with Caera—secured his wrists in place. “Right now, I want control.”

He licked his lower lip and smiled as he shook his head. “Very well then,” he said. He shifted his shoulders and settled back into my pillows. “Control away, Witch.”

Such beautiful words.

I rose up, leaned forward and kissed him. As I drew back, without taking my eyes off his, I lowered myself fully onto his dick. The bedframe moaned and shuddered as much as he did as his hands fisted and pulled against the restraints. His eyes had fluttered shut. But after a growl rumbled through his clenched teeth, he look at me with enough lust to bring me close to orgasming already.

Such a beautiful reaction.

 

Valzok was the first to get up an hour later and start to dress.

“I know I said no strings, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna kick you out so soon,” I languidly laughed. I didn’t add that I was enjoying his warmth and wanted him to hold me a bit longer. “You _can_ crash here, if you’d like.”

He smiled as his eyes roved over me. “It’s only a bit past eight, you know.”

“What—really?” I got out of bed and leaned over the loft railing to get a view of the clock. He was right. In that case, there wasn’t much reason for him to stay. “Oh. It feels so much later.”

I pulled on a robe and went down to the kitchen. To no surprise, Caera had a warm bowl of soup and a cup of tea ready for me at the table. She had another setting placed too—yet again being nosy and pushy about my intimate life. Then I noticed the rings still sitting on the table. Valzok’s wedding rings. While they ended up not being an issue, they sobered me with unwanted memories. I picked them up and met him at the bottom of the stairs.

“You’re still welcome to stay for some food or drinks.” I held the rings out to him. He took them and slid them inside his pocket. “Otherwise, have a good night.”

Val cupped my face and pressed his forehead to mine. I warred against myself to not kiss him again. A beat passed before he said, “See you around, Witch.”


	19. Vampire - Part 1

I glared at the invitation sitting on the table as I ate my breakfast. In all my time, I only worked with vampires once. As far as I knew, I hadn’t built up any rapport with them. So it was odd that they’d send me a fancy invitation to some fancy event.  
 

_Witch of Arvos_  
_We invite you to join us at the biannual Blut und Eis Gala at Castelul Corvinilor_  


A small RSVP card and return envelope were included with the invitation. That was it, no other information. If Castelul Corvinilor wasn’t such a famous place, I wouldn’t have even known that a vampire sent it. I had asked around my friends if they had heard about the event before. However, the _Blood and Ice Gala_ was apparently so secretive and exclusive that no one knew a lick about it.

I had sent a letter in the return envelope asking for more information before making my decision. It was two days before the RSVP date and no follow up had arrived. Either they were that secretive about their activities, or they took my inquiry as a denial. I guess they might have also sent it to the wrong witch; another one lived on the opposite side of Arvos.

It was late into the evening and I was measuring out herbs. I had been so focused that the sharp knocking at the door made me jump. Perfect. Dried rose petals everywhere. I brushed the mess into one pile then went to answer the door.

“Hello?”

On my doorstep stood a stout man draped in dark silk and a fur lined cloak. There was nothing particularly odd about him until he spoke. “Good evening this, my dear unkin. Perchance you are the witch I’ve to enlighten.”

What?

I would have thought my translation enchantment was on the fritz had it not been for his use of _unkin_. It was an archaic term used to denote oneself as another race or species than whom they addressed. The term mainly survived today on the lips of racists. While it made me uncomfortable to hear it, I brushed it off since there was no malicious weight to it—and I wasn’t in the mood for confrontation.

“Apologies,” he said in Ojaric, not a common language around this part but it was better than that first mess he spoke. “Let me start over. Good evening. My name is Antun. You are the witch who asked about the gala, yes?”

Everything made instant sense now. He must be a vampire, and an old one at that. “Ah. Yes. I didn’t realize they’d send someone instead of a letter.”

“We don’t like to commit such answers to ink.” Shadows wafted through his voice. As expected, they loved their secrets. “Besides, this way allows for more in-depth discussion. Shall we continue inside?” He gestured towards me with a toothy smile. It didn’t reach his eyes.

I felt the press of a challenge I normally only sensed when working with fae. It would be rude of me to keep him outside. But I did not trust him. I stole a casual glance past him to the trees, looking for the Vérus’s golden gaze. He wasn’t there. Being alone with this foreign vampire was not sitting well in my gut. There were too many little things off about this encounter.

“Forgive my rudeness. I wasn’t expecting guests, so my home is not in a hosting state. I’d be happy to fetch a chair if you’d like, or cast a warming spell if the chill is too pressing.”

His smile slimmed into a thin press of his lips, like nothing more than an indentation on a clay figure. He adjusted his cloak. “Very well. Where shall we start?”

“What happens at this gala? _When_ is it even happening?”

He stood unnervingly still as he thought out his answer. “The gala will start ten days prior to Brumal. There is a formal dinner, a masquerade, and a variety of leisurely activities.”

Still vague, but it was something at least. “And why exactly was I invited?”

“To provide your magical services.”

“What _types_ of services exactly?” This was worse than dealing with the fae. Were all vampires like this, or was this guy especially vexing? “I’ll need to know in advance so I can prep accordingly.”

“Everything you need will be provided by the hosts.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He took in a deep breath, puffing his chest out, and raised his chin at me. “Potions and such to recover blood, mental clarity, vigor—a number of possibilities, though those will be more the focus.”

“And you realize I’ll need proper compensation for my magic, yes?”

“You’ll be attending the Blut und Eis Gala,” he scoffed. “Few unkin can claim such prestige.”

My jaw clenched as I repressed a feral smile. His ingrained racism was pissing me off now. “Gloating rights don’t pay for magic.”

“Then what, pray tell, are your demands?” His words were clipped and I was greatly comforted by the fact he couldn’t step inside.

I silently called out to the Grand Scales with the vague offer. I had to hope the Scales had the foresight to know what I should ask of him. It took less time than expected to receive an answer. There was only one option. “One thousand ducats per day I am to work, paid upfront; then another one thousand per day I work, paid within a week after the event ends.”

“Six thousand ducats?” He laughed. Then he took a step forward. His foot was just over the threshold.

He should not have been able to do that.

“Don’t misunderstand—that money is petty nothing to us. But what makes you think you deserve that much for such simple work?”

He encroached closer.

Crap. I needed to think. I needed to act. I needed to set better wards. Dammit—panicking was the opposite of what I needed.

Wood groaned as vines shot from the floor to ensnare the vampire, stopping him. He let out a vicious hiss and whipped his head around to glare down Vérus. The fae was unfazed and casually walked up to him. He brushed aside the vampire’s cloak then grabbed at his chest making the vampire flinch and grunt in pain.

“Did you have any others questions for this creature, Witch?” asked Vérus.

I hesitated, still processing what exactly was going on. “N-no. I don’t.”

“Goodbye now.” Vérus jerked his arm back and the vampire collapsed on the floor in a pile of fabric and wet clay. He dropped a cracked, red stone on top the pile.

Ah. A golem. Not a vampire. That’s why he was able to enter my home without my permission. That also explained the unnerving air to him I sensed.

And now I had a mess to clean up. Joy.

“Be wiser next time,” he chided.

“I know.” I withheld a sigh and bowed low. “Thank you for your help.”

He grumbled a dismissive sound. “Something happens to you, then you can no longer help me. Just being pragmatic.” Did… did he just make a joke about the last time we spoke? I looked up at him and he smirked. “You’re smartly when dealing with us fae, but you need to be even more so when dealing with vampires and their puppets.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. His eyes moved to the mess on the floor and lingered as if he was caught up in a memory. “Tell me all you know about vampires.”

“We have more rules and honor to our trickery,” Vérus began softly. “Vampires tend to just manipulate and threaten and force. Feral, you could call them. Given that half of them come from the old times when there was almost nothing but blood, chaos, and antipathy…” His vines encased the remains of the golem. The sharp stench of rotting wood and fungus hit me as the lump melded away into the floor. “They are more prone to being rabid.”

“Lot of bad experiences with them, I take it?”

“Enough to not deal with them since the Blood War.”

“By the moon—that was _thousands_ of years ago! Seriously, they got to have changed _some_ since then. Damn…”

“Yes. I’m sure there are plenty that are far better than the ones I knew. Though given the tongue that one spoke in, some of them might still be alive.” So he had been listening all along. I would have been annoyed by his nosiness in different circumstances. “Proceed with caution, Witch.”


	20. Doll - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so everyone is aware, it will be awhile before I come back to this arc (for chronological sake.)

During Brumalis, Caera had found a vendor who specialized in making life-sized dolls for possession. They were temporary things used by those lacking physical form—mainly demons and celestials, but the dead as well.

I had mixed feeling about getting one for her. On one hand, it would be easier for Caera to help me if she had a physical form and her strength didn’t flux day to day. She’d have more freedom too. On the other hand, it would be costly and also allow her to be more wicked.

Currently, she couldn’t venture far from the house. She also had to monitor her energy usage or risk being out of commission for a few days. But if she had a spelled body… She’d tease me at home more and wherever we went. She’d plan more tricks, like the one she pulled with Valzok recently.

The sex would be different too.

It was such a unique experience to sleep with a ghost. Her incorporeal touch had addicting qualities. It also had limits. Having a body would only switch what limitations she had. And would she be offended if I preferred being with her in one form over the other? It was doubtful; though the question still pressed on my mind.

After a lengthy discussion and some days of thinking and sorting finances, I applied for a permit to get a doll. Grove ended up being the official who interviewed Caera and me. He was glad to see us hitting it off so well and immediately approved us.

Now we just had to deal with finding her the right body.

I hadn’t known it’d be such a tedious process until our meeting with the specialist, Thorald. When I saw how many crates he brought with him, I felt a tad guilty. “If I had known you’d be bringing so much, I’d have offered a transport spell.”

“Nonsense,” he chuckled and shook his head. “This is nothing.”

I offered to help bring them inside but he declined. I almost felt guilty about that too, but he moved them all so effortlessly. Perhaps his strength was a perk of being a living doll himself. He began setting the dolls up for her to test before I even properly introduce myself or Caera.

“So, Miss Witch, tell me more about the spirit who will live in the doll.”

“Caera? Well she’s my maid. It’s what she did while she was alive. Um—She… I’m sorry, I don’t really know what kind of information you need.”

“Let’s start with race. We can make a doll to look like how she did when she was alive—especially if you have any photos of her.”

“That I actually don’t know,” I admonished. It had never occurred to me to ask and now it felt strange to. She’d always just been a ghost to me.

“I’m half drow, half dwarf,” Caera spoke up. “Though I’m fine with whatever appearance my Mistress would prefer.”

I wish she had a solid form already so I could properly glare at her. I was still adjusting to her using that title in front of others. Thorald was unfazed; then again, he didn’t seem highly capable of facial expression.

“Let’s start with finding which materials you resonate with then. My guess, ceramic or metal will be most fitting.”

“How many different materials do you make dolls from?” I asked, not realizing I was about to send him in an enthusiastic ramble.

“Any and everything really. We’re always experimenting and expanding—looking to see how to best synergize the soul with a surrogate body. Sometimes, dolls require an assortment of materials for best results. Some customers need to even go from needing say, wood only, to needing a more processed material like metal. There are so many variables and possibilities. The work is never ending.”

His love for his work was blinding.

Thorald talked Caera through the process on how to possess and control the dolls. I thought it would be similar to if she possessed me, but since the dolls lacked life and proper nervous systems and such, they were trickier to move. He started going into detail but the magics were well beyond my grasp.

As suggested, Caera started with a porcelain doll. It took some time and coaching before she managed to open the eyes and move the limbs a fraction. Not much else, though. We moved on from one doll to the next with very mixed results. Thorald took meticulous notes the entire time. Since there was nothing for me to do, I started cooking and worked on some simple charms to sell.

“This is useless!” Caera groaned twenty-some minutes later. I glanced over at them to see what was going on.

“I know it feels that way, but please have faith,” Thorald soothed. “This is complex work and takes time to work out.”

“And if I’m unable to bond with a doll?”

“You will. It’s just taking a bit since you haven’t had physical form in so many years, and there’s nothing to tie you to it.”

Tie her to it? Did he mean a physical element, like blood? “Would using her bones help at all?”

“You have her bones?” I couldn’t tell if his shock was good or bad.

“Well, I’ll have to unbury them and they’re not all there but—yes.”

“Perfect!” he gushed. Oh, good; it was a good thing. “Since she wasn’t newly dead I figured her body was no more. Even if it’s just the bones, the amulet from them should still provide enough of an anchor. If, of course, you’re okay with us turning your remains into an amulet, Caera?”

“I don’t have a use for them. If it’d help, then please, by all means.”

“Perfect.” He scribbled down a note and handed me a paper. “Have them sent here. Make sure you put your case number on the outside.”

“Alright. Is there anything else I need to do?”

“I just need to go over a few more details about what you want your doll to look like. Then we’ll be all done for now.”

“That’s all up to her,” I said and waved my hand dismissively.

“You truly don’t care what I look like, Mistress?”

There was a bit of pain in her voice; it made my heart squeeze. “It’s not that I don’t care—but it’s _your_ body,” I explained softly. “It should be how you want it to be, how you’d feel happiest. It’s not my place to dictate how you should look. I just want your comfort.”

My hand warmed from Caera’s touch as if she had grabbed and kissed it.

“The world needs more hearts like yours.”


	21. Cursed Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Alt pronouns are used in this section.  
> *Pronoun guide:  
> \- ve | he/she/they  
> \- vir | him/her/them  
> \- vis | his/hers/theirs  
> \- verself | himself/herself/themself

Lybras asked me to help vir to sort a large shipment of books. A mansion out west was declared abandoned, so the local court went about repossessing everything on the land. Despite only have being sent a fraction of the collection so far, ve had a small archive’s worth of new books.

“Glad I brought caffeine and snacks,” I chortled when I saw all the stacks.

“Handle only what you feel to,” ve dismissed. “I already expect to spend weeks on this.”

“So you get to keep all these books?”

Ve glanced up from vis notes to glare a warning at me. “Depends on what we find. But yes; most will be staying here.” Typical dragon hoarding a trove. Ve gestured to a stack and said, “Start there. Be careful though. Some of the books are spelled.”

“Spelled?” There were a number of reasons to spell a book. If it were to keep unwanted readers at bay, though, the trouble would be the level of security they had. I was reluctant to find that answer. “How so?”

“They didn’t elaborate,” ve grumbled. Figures. Why would the court make our job easier?

For hours it was just mundane filing. It was easy yet numbing to fall into a rhythm. Which was why I jumped and yelped when Lybras suddenly yelled. I looked over and saw vis hand encompassed in flames. White, magical flames.

I cursed and ran to vis side. I cast the counter spell but instead of putting it out, it made the fire jump to me. Cursing, I fell on my ass as I panicked. This wasn’t basic magical fire. Trick fire then? Maybe. I didn’t have too much time to think about it as it was quickly spreading up my sleeves—I really liked this sweater too. I squeezed my eyes shut focused. It wasn’t a standard spell so my usual counter spells wouldn’t work. It leapt to me when I tried dispelling it, so it had to have some type of reflection element in it. Dammit! Who the hell cast such a complicated fire spell on a _book_?

Suddenly the fire was gone. Well, technically it was no longer eating away at my sweater and now attacking a poor potted plant Lybras was holding a safe distance away.

“The hell?”

“The fire jumps to the last living thing to touch the book. Your foot hit it when you came to my aid.”

“It burns the last—how the fuck did they even manage to send it here?” I grumbled as I picked at my burnt sleeves. I guess I should be glad my skin wasn’t burned.

“I’ll add it to the dues.”

I crossed my arms and looked around, scrutinizing the remaining books. “I’m going to hunt down more of the spelled tomes. The fewer outfits that end up ruined, the better.”

Ve grumbled, not caring either way. I took off one of my rings and a chord bracelet so I could craft a makeshift pendulum. A quick enchantment later and I could easily sort out the mundane from the magical.

I claimed three of the reading tables and labeled them _Magical Untested, Magical Benign,_ and _Magical Dangerous_ respectively. With a simple cantrip, I floated the fiery book onto the danger table. One hour and thousands of books later, I had found all the spelled books. There were more than I expected, but I was ready for the task.

I drew up some talismans to test for any other bio-reactive books. One turned the paper to stone, another into a leaf, and a third set he paper on fire via lightning. Two books ate the talismans—though one was actually a young mimic. Lybras contacted the Humility Society while I persuaded the little devil into making a bed out of scrap paper and napping.

As for the harmless books, there were a lot that were simply password protected—from what I could gauge. A blank book would fill with lies if you gave it a drop of your blood. One would play out vivid daydreams when you opened it. It was tempting to test it thoroughly. However, getting hot and bothered would be so inappropriate right now.

Thankfully, most of the books ended up being nonthreatening.

But then there were the mysterious last two books.

They had a magical presence, but I couldn’t get any other reads from them. The talismans didn’t react; reveal cantrips were ineffective. I dared to touch the covers and spines, but still no reaction. The only thing left to do was open them.

I cautiously opened the first book. The pages were near black with how much was scrawled on them. After a minute of staring at a number of pages, I was certain I didn’t know this language. If it even was a language. I’d have to invest in a charm to translate writings soon.

“Hey Lybras,” I said as I walked over and showed vir the pages. “Can you read this?”

Ve scrutinized it for a moment. “No. Just mark as undetermined.” Ve flipped the page.

That was when things got weird.

The book… bit us. The writing began to glow as the pages fluttered and the book tossed itself out of my hands. We stared stupefied at it, waiting for what would happen next—because all of that had to have done _something_.

“Maybe something good will happen?” I hedged, trying to stay positive. Ve was unamused. The book stilled, and I was about to make another remark when black tendrils bubbled out of it.

We weren’t given a chance to run before it ensnared us. We both swore and struggled but to no avail. No place was safe from their touch. A glance at Lybras and I saw them covering vir from tail to horns. I almost envied vis larger size and greater body area for these lewd cirri to trail across. When I tried to shift positions, they constricted tighter around me. Little prickles bit into my skin. Did these things have teeth? If they did, they weren’t strong enough to break my skin since they only left oily ooze in their wake and no blood.

They weren’t constricting us to death, just groping and restraining. It wasn’t unpleasant, actually. I even started to think it was similar to being tied up by Mosaiko.

With that thought, my feelings towards the moment shifted.

This was still _not_ ideal. I didn’t know what these tendrils intended to do and I wasn’t thrilled that Lybras was here to witness me… not hating them. We had a nice, professional relationship and this wasn’t my first pick on how to shift it to a personal level.

A tendril snaked around to the back of my neck and attached itself like a leech. Then I heard a voice—an amalgamation of voices—echo in my head.

**_Desire for desire. Will you accept?_ **

“Did… did you hear that too?”

“Yes,” Lybras answered.

As least I wasn’t hallucinating. But what did it mean?

**_Desire of knowledge for desire of carnality,_** it responded. It was discomforting that it seemed to be able to read my mind. **_Will you accept?_**

“I don’t know if we should really trust this book.” I was skeptical that agreeing with it would be worth it. “For all we know, it’s gonna eat us.”

“I don’t think it’s anything that severe.”

“Elaborate book voice!” I demanded. “Will accepting your offer kill us?”

**_There are no desires for death. To fulfil the desires—nothing more nothing less. Knowledge for carnality, will you accept?_ **

“We won’t get a straight answer,” ve sighed. “We’ll have to accept or refuse.”

I hated vague spells. My curiosity was running wild but I was still skeptical of all this. I fidgeted. The tendrils bit into me more, and that just made a little devil urge me to agree. I wouldn’t die; and knowledge and carnality didn’t sound so bad.

I conceded. “Well I’m up it if you are.”

Lybras took more time to make up vis mind. “I agree.”

Nothing happened.

“You have to say it,” ve said.

“Of course—the vague spell needs a specific answer.” I rolled my eyes then threw a glare at the book before saying, “I agree.”

In a flash like lightning, my vision danced and mind felt floaty. I felt like I had taken a few shots of vodka. My mind twisted and reformed. My memories and thoughts flipped pass like pages blowing in the wind. Even the skeletons.

My focus jolted back to the archive. Lybras was shuddering and short of breath and… erect. I knew I shouldn’t stare but damn. Ve was impressive. And I was intrigued to see vis unique anatomy—around the base of vis  shaft was a clear set of labia.

One of the tendrils wrapped itself around the head of vis member and swallowed it within. The dark, oozing tendril split into two; one stayed wrapped around Lybras’s dick, while the other quivered and reshaped into an exact replica of it.

_What?_ I had second to think before it slithered its way to me. Oh damn. I knew where this was going—where _it_ was going. At this point I had no more reservations. The moment I saw that slick tendril aiming for me I wanted it inside me. I didn’t fight as the tendrils already wrapping me spread my legs; didn’t struggle as a couple tore my panties away.

Instead, my eyes fluttered shut and head fell back as it started prodding into me. Slipping fully in, it felt like it was adjusting to fit me without really stretching me. Shame. Still, it felt wonderful as it thrusted in and out. No wonder there were so many dragon hybrids.

I wiggled my hips, trying to adjust so it would hit a better spot, but instead riled the tendrils up into biting me again. If they were trying to persuade me to stop moving, they were failing. Now I squirmed solely so they’d dig in more.

My mind was a cloudy mess. I sank further and further into the pleasure. So this is what it meant by carnality. I didn’t even care to wonder what the knowledge part had been. The fact we were supposed to be cataloging books was long gone. I even forgot Lybras was there—maybe watching, maybe lost in vis own pleasures.

The tendrils vanished and I dropped to my hands and knees. After taking a few second to calm myself, it registered that, right before everything stopped, Lybras had said ve rescinded vis consent.

We both stole a glance at each other then looked away. Silence rang between us for a good moment.

“You should make a couple memory wipe potions,” Lybras spoke up. “It’d be best we both forgot tonight.”

“Agreed.”


	22. Vampire - Part 2

Two weeks before Brumal I met a dilemma.

Aero was delivering my mail, which should have been a usual thing; except today he delivered a bank note. As soon as I saw that gold and navy wax seal my stomach dropped. The only reason I could think they would contact me for is an issue with my house payments. And just like that, my imagination was running wild with anxiety about losing my home.

“It might not be bad,” Aero said. He lingered in my doorway, like usual now.

I laughed with derision. “Right. Surely the bank is just sending me an early Brumal card.” I sighed and broke the seal, but hesitated taking the letter out. I let out a shaky breath. “You read it.” I shoved the letter at him then buried my face in my hands.

He opened it then let out a low whistle. “Damn, are you a sugar baby and didn’t tell me?”

“What?” I gave him a look then snatched the letter back. It was a notice that someone wanted to transfer three thousand ducats to my account and that the bank needed me to come in to confirm the process. “What?”

“Inheritance?”

“No.” No one in my blood would give me this sort of money. This was something else. It took a second long than it should have to click. The vampires. “Fuck. They actually paid me.”

“Who?”

“The vampires who invited me to that gala. They want me to work their event. Part of the payment is upfront.”

“You’re not excited,” he noted.

I shook my head, my eyes locked on that number on the paper. “Vér—the one hamadryad warned me this could be dangerous.”

Aero pulled me into his arms and gently rubbed my back. “I have to get back to work, but I can stop by tonight if you want to talk?”

“It’s fine,” I politely declined. “If I need ya, I know where you live.”

He laughed softly then kissed my forehead. “Take care, little Witch.”

 

———

 

In the end, I accepted the money and job. It was a small hassle, but I could pay off a large chunk of my debts and wouldn’t need to worry about Caera’s doll. The train ride to Haarhoven was pleasant. It was beautiful to see the landscape become further engulfed in winter’s grasp the closer we got—the castle better have good heating.

The city was… overwhelming. Everyone knew where to go and just flowed around everyone else. Whereas I had no idea where the exit to the train depot was.

“First time in Haarhoven?”

I jumped and turned towards the stranger next to me. He was dressed in a fine suit and coat that probably cost more than what this job here was paying me. His cane looked cool though. He held a piece of paper out to me and then I realized it was my invitation to the gala. “Thanks.” I took the paper back and tucked it into my bag. “And yes. That obvious?”

He smiled politely. “A touch. Do you know how to get to where you need to be?”

This was getting uncomfortably personal. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well if something changes,” he said as he glanced at the giant clock. “My carriage will be here in ten.”

I was about  to decline when he smiled again with a flash of fang. I should have guessed. Looking him over again I could see the vampiric old money in him. “You’re going to the gala.”

“Aleril Huniazilor,” he introduced. “And you are?”

“I’m a witch from Arvos. You can simply call me Witch.”

He took a step closer. The sharpness of his expression that gave me chills. “Might I advise you to leave while you can?”

That caught me off guard. What did it say when a vampire attending the event told you to not go? “Is the host the kind to be fine with returning three thousand ducats?”

His eyes narrowed. “Quite a bit of money.”

“And that’s just the first half.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re really in this then.” He sounded so dejected—what the hell was going to happen at this gala? “Keep to your room when not tending to the event.”

“Why are you giving me this warning?”

“Because. This is a very specific type of event—I’d avoid it if I could. And since you got Lord Corvin to pony up that much for this… Well. Step wisely.”

“You are _really_ selling this party, you know.”

We both smiled—he from my sarcasm, I from how dazzling his eyes shined like malachite as he did. He offered out his arm to me. “My offer still stands.”

 

I let Aleril escort me to Castelul Corvinilor. And I got the first true answers about what would happen the next three days. Overall, it was a high protocol event to honor some of their _traditions_. He assured me it wasn’t all archaic; but there _would_ be some distasteful things.

The luxury was overwhelming, though expected, as we entered the castle. I was sure that each tile I walked across cost most than my house. Right after I handed over my invitation to the concierge, the twin of the golem that visited my home approached me. Ugh. I would have preferred to not run into him—and what an ego he had, to make his golem look _exactly_ like himself.

“Greetings, Arvos witch,” he said and bowed. “An audience is requested by the Lord.”

I glanced at Aleril, who had already stepped a polite distance away; he only offered a stony look. Knowing this request was a demand in disguise, I let Antun lead the way.

After a maze of hallways and stairways, I sat before the lord of the castle. There was a lovely fire roaring away but the room was still cold. Not even the plush leather couches nor the wool blankets and heavy cotton pillows decorating them felt soft.

“Quite a young witch for such a reputation.” The way he looked me over made my stomach rile.

“Uh, yeah. I guess,” I fumbled for a response. I didn’t think I had built that much of a reputation. “I’ve studied hard and work to be as inclusive as I can in my work.”

He hummed dismissively and took a sip of his bloodwine. “Tonight, Antun will be by to… prep you for the gala. You’re expected to keep to your room until fetched tomorrow. Understood?”

“Yes.”

He made a gesture and a servant walked into the room. The woman bowed to Lord Corvin then looked to me. I gave a quick curtsy before following the maid out.

A metaphorical sludge clung to me after that. I wanted to immediately shower and cleanse myself thoroughly right when I got to my room, but that was why I didn’t. Something was heavily off about this place and the people.

I went to my bags—delivered while I was speaking with Lord Corvin—and checked the hidden seals I placed on them. They were intact. Good; no one tried tampering with my things. Before I settled into a nice long bubble bath and perused the room service menu, I checked for hidden bugs then cleansed the room and prepped some wards. Black salt, black agate, red brick dust—I wasn’t taking any chances and went all out with these and more. I would finish them after Antun’s visit.

Apparently “prepping me for the gala” meant going over the materials I’d need, wardrobe approval, and signing an NDA.

“Quite the contract,” I said as I thumbed through the excessive amount of pages.

“We strive to cover every possible situation.”

“Well I’d like to read it all through first.”

“Everything is non-negotiable.”

I gave him a sharp look. “I meant that unless you want to stand around while I read each page, perhaps you’d prefer to give me a bit of time?”

“Fine.” He inhaled sharply. “Yes. Just make sure all the pages are signed by the morning.”

“There will be a signature in every spot by then.”

“Good.” And he left.

“Good,” I echoed. Now to finish off my plans.


	23. Vampire - Part 3

I was surprised to find Aleril outside my door, delivering my breakfast. “Is this where you tell me you’re actually a servant working here?” I teased.

“Would you like me to service you?” His smile was wicked and as suggestive as his words. He tried entering my room and was shocked to see himself repelled. “Already warding me out?”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a slip of paper with the negate sigil from my bag. “Here,” I handed it to him. “Put a drop of your blood on the _X_ in the middle. Then you can enter as you’d like.”

“My my, such a clever one you are.” He pricked his pinky on one of his fangs and pressed it to the paper. The sigil lit up then faded away completely.

Aleril brought my breakfast inside. “So, are you ready for today?”

I pushed the couch further back from the coffee table, plopped myself on floor, and started digging into my food. “I’m not sure,” I said between bites. “I flip between yes and no like, every five minutes.”

“Today will be the least demanding day for you, so don’t stress too much.”

“What? No kinky S-and-M or sex today?” He raised a brow at me. “The NDA stated some of it. Besides, you said this was a high protocol thing; I know a decent amount about kink.”

“Perhaps you’ll do better here than I thought.”

“Wow,” I drew out and placed my palm to my chest. “Giving me so little credit. I was invited to _the_ Blood and Ice Gala, I’ll have you know; do you know what a _status symbol_ that is?”

He laughed. The flash of his fangs made my lick my lip a little. I pushed thoughts of him biting me from my mind and focused on my breakfast. Surely there’d be time for that later.

 

Like Aleril said, the day was simple. First I had to suffer the commencement ceremony. It was clear only the oldest of the vampires weren’t tired of the pomp and circumstance. At its conclusion, they rang an old bell; a wave of magic washed the room—a binding spell that coupled the NDA. I shivered. Their magic felt like thistles on my skin.

I was the only witch in attendance. The only guests I saw who weren’t vampires were mundane humans and mostly-human mixed races—expected, since vampires couldn’t drink the blood of anyone considered magical. And there were a lot. I could already tell how quickly I could get overwhelmed, so as soon as I was free, I got to work.

I prepped potions and salves and more while others lounged and socialized and dined. I worked through lunch but received a rather unbreakable command to attend dinner. When I found my seat next to Aleril, I grew suspicious of the command’s origin.

“Ah, the reclusive Witch has appeared.”

I threw a polite smile to him and the others at the table, two vampires and a human, as I sat down. He introduced everyone but my mind was still overfilled with work to remember names. The disinterest was mutual and polite.

“So what trouble have you gotten up to?” I asked him.

“I’ve been behaving today, thank you.”

“Oh?” I doubted that.

“I have,” he defended. He side-eyed me as he took a sip of his bloodwine. “What about you?”

A slow smile curled my lips. I waved my hand as I shrugged, an innocent enough gesture. What he didn’t realize though was I was summoning a mage hand under the table. “Just doing what I do best,” I answered as the mage hand stroked up his leg.

Hunger flared in his eyes. “I see.”

The dinner bell chimed and everyone stopped chatting and floating about and took their seats. I let my cantrip dissolve; I didn’t want to overstep by using my magic during the meal. Plus, I was too ravenous to keep up my concentration.

When the servants came out to serves drinks, I was caught off guard by their… uniforms. All of them were in leather thongs, a chest harness of varying styles, cuffs on their wrists and ankles, and a wide leather collar. Each collar was adorned with different colored pins. It was a coding system to signify what types of interactions were allowed with each of them. I hadn’t been given the key to the coding system, not that I needed it. I had no intention to interact with them beyond offering my magical services.

Once all drinks were served, Lord Corvin gave a toast. He of course didn’t drink from a glass like the rest of us. No, Corvin drank his blood straight from the throat of a young man, naked save for the blindfold over his eyes. I felt he was trying too hard to uphold aesthetics. How theatric would the rest of this gala be?

As the appetizers were served I felt a brush against my leg. I looked at Aleril and his gaze still held that hunger. An unspoken question passed between us. One I answered by adjusting my leg closer to him.

He lazily stroked his fingers along my thigh. He stayed on top of my dress, avoiding the bit of skin peeking between my dress hem and stockings. That was until the next course. After the appetizers were cleared away, and the salad plates were placed, he pushed up my dress and ran his hand up and down my thigh.

I was quickly starting to hunger for something other than food.

The next course was the first main dish—because Corvin was too pretentious to have just _one_ main dish during this multi-course meal. As it was served, I glanced around the room. No one seemed to notice Aleril and me fooling around; in fact a number of the vampires were already doing far more to the humans next to them.

I was pulled back from my drifting thoughts as Aleril’s touch advanced higher. His hand slid between my thighs and parted my legs further. I wasn’t wearing panties. He teased along my folds in the same casual manner he caressed my thigh. It was highly distracting. Especially when he focused on my clit. With the ease in which he ate and made small talk with the others, you wouldn’t think he was occupied by anything else. I, however, got so lost in his touch I only noticed the next course was served when he did something new.

As his fingers slid inside me I let out a notable moan. I pressed my hand over my mouth, doing my best to be subtle and failing. One of tablemates glanced at me and smirked; the other two were too busy to care.

“Is the food not to your liking?” Aleril asked arrogantly. “You’ve hardly touched it.”

It was impossible to glare at him while he stroked my g-spot so well. “The food… is fine,” I whimpered.

“Good. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He smiled, flashing his fangs at me. Wickedness danced in his eyes as he rocked a shudder out of me. “I’m sure you’ll love the dessert just as well.”

“Is this how you treat all—” I gasped as he slid another finger inside. “—treat the women you meet at these galas?”

He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Only the ones as fantastical as you.”

Such a silver tongue. And skilled hands. He didn’t let up as I tried to eat my meal. I wasn’t sure I’d make it to the next course—the final one—before he made me cum.

When the servants started to clear the plates I locked eyes with Aleril. His lascivious expression made me squirm. I waited expectantly to see what he did next.

The main course was cleared.

Dessert was served.

He removed his fingers from inside me and licked them clean. Then he properly cleaned them in the finger bowl and dried them with his napkin.

Instead of continuing to play with me, he just started eating dessert.

“That’s it?”

He looked at me knowingly and finished his bite of cheesecake. “Do you really want me to continue right now? Here?”

Fair. I wasn’t big on exhibitionism, but goddamn he had edged me so close! From the glint in his eyes I could tell he was enjoying my frustration. I pouted and ate my cheesecake.

He leaned in close again, brushing my hair aside and letting his fingers trail down my neck. “Shall we continue after dinner?”

I debated the matter. I wanted it, wanted him. But now a part of me wanted to deny him and make him wait. My vindictive side won. “No,” I told him and flashed my own smug smirk in his face. “Now you have to wait.”

His dark chuckle tempted me to change my resolve. “Very well.”


	24. Vampire - Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday the 13th. There's a full moon tonight. And this story has 666 hits at the time of me posting this.
> 
> How wonderful :)

Getting myself off was nowhere near as satisfying as if I hadn’t said no to Aleril. I could still feel his teasing touch and hear his seductive voice. He even visited my dreams. We were having dinner, similar to the one we had, but in the dream we dined alone and he didn’t stop when dessert was served.

He didn’t visit me like the morning before. That was fine. I wasn’t expecting to be his sole focus this weekend. Besides, I was here for work not pleasure; best not to get wrapped up in a fling.

A servant escorted me to a new area of the castle. Behind a set of grand doors that reached nearly three stories high was a massive ballroom. The embroidered curtains were drawn shut; the candlelight reflecting off crystal chandeliers and full length mirrors blanketed everyone in soft light and exaggerated shadows; lacy screens and swaths of silk sectioned off parts of the room.

While yesterday’s focus was socializing and service, today it was clearly play.

My station sat in the center of the room. Everything I already prepped was neatly stored away. I familiarized myself with the space and reordered some of the supplies—whoever thought it was fine to store the carya next to the poppy was a fool.

Only a fraction of the guests was present this early. None of them paid me mind. I had little idea of what else I needed to make so the morning passed sluggardly. Now and then I’d look for Aleril in the crowd. He was either not here, or hiding very well.

Around midday, most of the morning crowd switched out with double the people. It didn’t take long after that for me to get busy. It was actually a relief since boredom had been about to kill me.

“So you’re the thing old Corvin is fascinated with this year,” purred a woman dressed in a latex mini-dress. She perched herself on the edge of the table between us and gave me a lazy once over. She spoke in Nosferri, and seemed to think I couldn’t understand her—I was fine to let her keep thinking that.

“How can I help you?” I asked with my work-smile plastered on.

She switched to Common,“I require something to slow bleeding.”

“For you or a human? And for ingestion or external application?”

Her eyes narrowed as a cheshire grin spilt her face. “How… thorough of you.” The way she continued to size me up made it clear she had no interest in any of my work. No—her interest seemed to be where she’d like to bite me first. Normally, I’d love a beautiful woman being so forward with me. But this vampire had an insatiable thirst in her eyes that set off every warning within me.

“Come now, Erzsébet,” Aleril said as he appeared behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. The steel in his voice made me flinch. “Let’s leave the witch to her work. Wouldn’t want Lord Corvin to not get his money’s worth of her.”

She shrugged his hand off, displeased at being told what to do. Her sneer smoothed as if she put on a mask. “Of course.” She bowed her head to him, pompously looked down her nose at me, and walked back into the play area.

I rubbed my shoulder to try to ease some tension in my muscles. “Thanks.”

“Tired already?” he teased.

I stopped massaging myself. “Does it matter either way? It’s not like I can take a break.”

“You sure about that?” He took my hand in his and drew slow circles on the back of it with his thumb.

“Didn’t you just tell that woman to leave me to my work?”

 “Well…” He cleared his throat as his caress on my hand faltered. I tried not taking too much delight in his cracked composure. “Since you don’t have time to play now, perhaps tonight?”

A slow smile curled my lips. “Sure.”

“Your room or mine?”

“Didn’t you tell me to keep to my room when I’m not working?” He let out a breathy laugh as he shook his head and gave me a wicked look. Teasing him with his own words was delightful. “I’ll keep the door unlocked.”

 

The hour dragged late and my impatience grew unbearable. Exhausted was an understatement to how the day left me—even a hearty dinner and long bubble bath failed to do much.

I was just about to turn the lock when a soft knock sounded from the other side of the door. I opened it and gave Aleril an impatient look. “I almost locked you out.”

“Apologies.” He placed a hand on his chest and bowed. His formalities made me feel like royalty. I let him inside then closed the door.

In a flash, he grabbed me and sat me on the bed. I was dazed for a second before I focused in on Aleril stripping. Slowly. He slid off his coat, unbuttoned his waistcoat then dress shirt. He slid off his shoes and kicked them to the side. Then he unfastened his pants and let them drop, stepping out of them so he was only in his socks.

He let me take my fill of the view before approaching me and tugging at the sash holding my silk robe closed. He pulled and twirled the sash around his hand; he took my wrists, wrapped the sash around them twice, then tied a bow.

“Lie back.”

As my back met the bed, he parted my robe. He smirked, finding me already bare beneath it. He trailed his fingers down my sides and I shuddered. He kissed me as he spread my legs. When he kissed my neck, he slid a finger inside me—which was much more pleasurable at this angle than at dinner. He took his time leaving a trail of kissed down my body all while adding another finger to pleasure me.

His tongue found my clit and soon I was gripping the sheets. I wonder how long it took him to become this skilled. Not that it mattered; I was thankful three times over for it. He drove me to the edge and held me there until I whimpered and shifted my hips, trying to reach my orgasm. Aleril pressed his arm down across my hips to hold me in place. He teased me more. I was close to begging when he finally pushed me over the edge.

I gasped and gritted my teeth as a quivering moan escaped. My body shuddered, thighs clamping against his head. His fingers continued to slowly stroke in and out of me, milking the waves of ecstasy.

Once I calmed down some, I looked and found him smiling up at me with greedy eyes.

“How would you like me to continue?” he purred.

I thought about it for a second. “I wanna still feel it tomorrow.”

He stood up, hooked one hand under my thigh, and teased the head of his cock along my folds. I was still sensitive and shuddered as he flicked over my clit. “As the lady commands.” He pushed inside and proceeded to give me numerous orgasms that night.


	25. Vampire - Part 5

Aleril left shortly after we finished—I didn’t want him staying the night. As soon as my head hit the pillow I was gone. He wore me out. At least I slept soundly.

I actually slept through my morning wake up call. And through room service trying to bring me breakfast. By the time I checked the clock, I scrambled to get presentable and hurried down before I missed my meal entirely.

I speed-walked down the hall and straightened my dress along the way. Voices from further ahead slowed my pace. As I drew closer, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop some. But once I was close enough to make out what they were saying, I stopped dead.

“If the Lottery occurred swiftly enough,” Antun said to someone in the archaic language my charm had trouble translating. “Shall that unkin bleed for such slights to our Lord.”

“Stock needn’t gold,” mused an almost familiar voice. Erzsébet? I think that was the predatory vampire woman from yesterday. The accent was making it difficult to be certain. “Shame to keep that unkin till we finish of her work.”

“Shame too, her blood savored not,” Antun sneered. “Live on Corvinilor, rest bleed.” He recited it like a moto. The other person—still guessing Erzsé-bitch— mimicked the saying back to him. I heard their footsteps going in opposite directions, neither towards me thankfully.

I stayed frozen in the hall, having lost my appetite. I replayed the little bit of conversation I caught over and over. The NDA had mentioned a lottery but lacked details. But if Antun’s puzzled words suggested anything, I was hedging bets it was a death lottery. Gathering from the “her blood savored not _”_ bit, it looked like I would be a part of it as well.

I took a steadying breath and returned to my room. There were things I had to prepare since it looked like I’d be making a swift exit. While I felt confident that they couldn’t simply kill me, I didn’t want to test it. I took the haversack charm off my necklace and tossed it on the bed. The charm, like my broom, was spelled and now grew to full size. It wasn’t often I used this one—it was limited use and expensive—but now it was the only way to keep my things, and keep them inconspicuous.

A servant came for me right as I tossed my last few items in the bag. “One minute! I’m still changing,” I called, lying. I closed the bag, shrank it back to a charm, and attached it to my necklace before answering the door. The servant eyed me curiously and I forced a smile. “Sorry. Lead the way.”

They led me to the ballroom again. Today there was more play but this time, everything was beyond my risk profile.

It was still mid-morning yet and people were already dripping thin trails of blood as they were suspended on hooks. Others were suspended in rope and dually engaged in bloody knife play. The humans that weren’t suspended were mostly engaged in either knife play, needle play, or rough impact play that broke the skin.

Today’s theme must be blood. Such an unsettling thought knowing what they planned for tonight.

After a cursory glance of the room, I kept my focus within my station. If I met the eyes of any of the vampires, I might give away that I knew what was to come. Did the humans know about the lottery? By the moon and gods, with Corvin’s love of theatrics I could picture them literally bathing in their blood. I shuddered and did my best to push those images from my mind.

“So uptight today,” crooned a familiar voice. “And here I thought I did a good job of sating you last night.”

“You’re here early, Aleril.”

He picked up one the blood replenishing potions I just finished and rolled the vial in his hand. “Today’s the finale of the Blut und Eis Gala. One shouldn’t waste a moment of this day.”

“And you’re spending time talking to me? I’m so honored,” I teased. He side-eyed me and raised a knowing brow. He was in as much of a flirting mood as I was.

He drifted behind the table into my work area and caged me between his arms. He leaned in close. “I’m feeling selfish right now. Shall we go somewhere more private?”

It wasn’t a question, which was why he didn’t wait for an answer before hooking a finger under the collar of my dress and guiding me towards the door. I wasn’t pleased with him pulling me in such a way but I didn’t argue—at least he hadn’t grabbed my necklace.

“You need to get out of here,” he said under his breath once we were in the hall. Of course he knew what they planned for me.

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled. He took my hand and placed a quick kiss on the back of my fingers. “They can’t do much to me.”

I didn’t know where he was taking me, but we didn’t make it. A couple vampires stepped into the hallway up ahead and it was clear they planned on stopping us. Aleril changed course and pulled me into a side room.

“You need to get out of here. Don’t go home; they’ll look for you there.”

“I’m not afraid of Lord Corvin.”

“You should be.” My heart squeezed from how concerned he was. He placed his hand on the side of my neck, his thumb stroking over my pulse point. “It’s a shame we didn’t have more time together.”

I grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him into a rough kiss. His fingers curled on the back of my neck, his nails digging in and scratching me ever so faintly. His other hand grabbed my hip. Our bodies pressed together sending echoes of the night before shuddering through me. It was temping to spend a few risky minutes fooling around.

He pulled away then took something out of his jacket pocket. It was a necklace. He unlatched it and I pulled my hair out of the way so he could put it on me. “Keep this on you. It will help you get through the forest.”

I looked at the pendant. It was a simple metal branch or antler, nothing fancy or intricate. “Find me after things settle.”


	26. Leshen

My limbs stung like hell as heat returned to them. Sitting up was a struggle, but I needed to move, needed to get my circulation up. I didn’t recognize where I was. It was a cozy log cabin a bit smaller than my own home. I didn’t remember how I got here.

After escaping the castle of some murderous vampires, I hopped on my broom and started my way home. I avoided the train, knowing they’d look for me there. Flying would take longer, but I was banking on the vampires checking my home and moving on by the time I got there. I also banked on Vérus not putting up with any lookout they might try leaving.

My broom was only able to carry me a few hours away before it needed to recharge. By then I was well into the woods. I took my cloak from my haversack to keep warm. While I didn’t need to worry about its warmth spell running out, it wasn’t a true solution against the cold. I quickly realized my folly in my rushed decision to stay off the beaten paths. There were plenty of dead branches around for a fire. But without some sort of shelter, this situation would quickly become as deadly as the one I just escaped from.

Someone had to have rescued me. But who? And how far off my path had they taken me?

“Hello?” I tentatively called out. The only things I heard were the crackling fire and the wind hissing outside.

Walking sent needles up through my legs. I wobbled my way through the house, checking the rooms, finding no one. The smell of fresh bread led me to the kitchen. There was a small loaf sitting on the table, cooling on a cloth, and the sight of it made my stomach grumble.

“Help yourself.”

I screamed and whipped around. I tripped over my feet and my hip met the edge of the table. Ignoring the pain burning in my side, I met the concerned eyes of a moth. If I had met them outside, I would have easily mistaken them for a snow sculpture if they stood still. Even their robes were icy white.

“Careful.” They tentatively held out a hand towards me, ready to assist. “Take it slow. You’re safe here. My name is Theophania.”

“Hello.” I bowed my head; it was a bit late for greetings but better than never. “You can call me Witch.”

“What were you doing in the woods?”

“Running from death.”

“Well you nearly meet it anyways.” She went to the fireplace and removed the lid from the cauldron hanging over the fire. The rich scent of stew wafted around me. “Soup is nearly done. Please, relax. You can eat in here or out on the couch. You can even eat while in the bath, if you so choose.” She laughed lightly to herself as she stirred the stew.

“I’m sorry, but where exactly am I?”

Theophania set down the spoon and replaced the lid on the cauldron. She turned and looked at me, her eyes haunting voids that revealed nothing. Her antenna, however, drooped back, giving me a sense of unease. “You’re in der Schwarzwald. Or Feldberg Forest, as most outsiders call it.”

You’ve heard tales of these woods. The forest was an entity of its own, one obstinately set against letting any society try to _tame_ it. It wasn’t a place to go wandering. Tales say, if you were lucky, you’d just wander for endless hours and end up roughly where you started. If you weren’t lucky, the woods would become your grave. It was hard to say what stories were true and what ones were fanciful tales for entertainment.

As my situation sunk in, Theo slowly nodded. “Rest up. You’ll be meeting the waldschrat soon.”

_Waldschrat_ —who or what was that?  


 

Theo was a lovely host during the two long days before I met the waldschrat. She gave me space, cooked phenomenal meals, and it was beyond cozy to snuggle with her on the couch while drinking tea.

While all that was nice, it didn’t dissuade my anxiety.

I knew it was time the moment Theo walked into the room. Her antennas were down flat and she held her hands tightly in front of her. I threw on my cloak and boots and followed her out.

The walk was silent, save for the crunching of snow under my feet. I thought of using my broom but now didn’t feel like the time to use any magic. Gods, the silence was imposing. Did anything else live in these woods? There were no other houses along our walk. I didn’t even find eyes watching from the shadows.

Theo stopped and I almost ran into her. My focus had been scattered everywhere else but snapped to mass of branches and moss in front of us. There was no snow on it. She grabbed my arm and yanked me down to my knees like her. Curse the freezing snow. As soon as she released me, I adjusted my cloak under the knees to fight against the chill.

The air rushed from behind us and swirled in a mini cyclone around the snowless mound. Then it moved. The mound grew and contorted, taking on the form of a satyr. A nightmarish satyr. A skull emerged from the branches, a raccoon I think. Blue fire sparked to life in its eyes. _Ah. Waldschrat must be their term for leshen,_ I thought.

“Sorcerer,” crept a voice, like a whisper grew legs and skittered around like a frantic bug. “How did you come by my favor?”

It would be easier to answer if I knew what their favor was. The leshen approached, shifting as they did. Now they looked like a cervitaur with a fox skull—still nightmarish too. They hooked a claw under the twig necklace. Clarity struck. “A vampire named Aleril gave it to me before I fled Castelul Corvinilor.”

“Ah. Him.” They pulled their claw away, letting the necklace fall against my skin. It no longer felt like metal. I wanted to look, to see if it was different now, but I didn’t dare look away from the leshen. “Tell me, sorcerer. Can you cast a Grand Rite?”

“I can.”

“Then how about a bargain? I shall take you to the edge of my woods, if you perform the Rite.”

“Forgive my forwardness—why do you need a Grand Rite?”

The leshen shifted again to an amorphic mound of underbrush and detritus. “Sustenance has become scarce. I am hoping the Rite will help aid in the matter.”

Surely there were better rituals than the Grand Rite for such a thing, but I didn’t argue. “Has a druid not been able to help?”

“There’s no longer any close enough to bargain.”

“I see.” I wasn’t sure how much help I could be. I _wanted_ to help; but as a witch, I wasn’t sure if what they were offering would equal the payment for such a ritual. I called to the Grand Scales. The ibis was sitting in its nest and regarded me for a long moment before making its decision. As I thought, the ritual required more. Hopefully the leshen won’t mind. “I can perform the Rite. However, as I am a witch, my magic will cost more than just safe travel.”

Judging by how they shifted back to a looming, monstrous form complete with wolf skull, I’d say the leshen wasn’t fond of my response. “What are your demands then?”

It was taking everything I had not to shiver. “As this is your forest, I’ll need you to participate in the Rite with me and lend some of your magic to the spell.”

They cocked their head like a quizzical animal. “Is that all?”

“No,” I hesitated. “I’ll need a spell in return.”

“What spell?” they growled.

Finding words was difficult now. “The Scales weren’t very… concise on that part. But there’s some spell you know that I apparently require.” When they didn’t respond, I rambled on. “Of course, I wouldn’t teach the spell with anyone else; and I swear by the Grand Scales to not abuse it. Or maybe you could just cast it for me when I need it, that way you don’t even have to teach it—”

“Very well,” they cut me off.

 

The rest of the day, and into the next, everyone prepped for the ritual. There were a surprising number of forest folk now. Mostly, they gathered enough ribbon for the maypole—and dying more red ribbon. Some prepared food for a small feast afterwards. All simple work, but time consuming.

When it was time for the ritual, it was amazing to see how beautiful the ritual space was. Eight saplings circled the center, stretching up and meeting in the center to form a cage around the area I’d perform the Rite. At the top of the trees, the ribbons were secured in a red-white alternating pattern. Faerie lights bobbed around, giving off gentle light.

I approached the central area and noticed delicate runes carved into the saplings. In the middle laid a bed of furs. Hopefully they’d be enough to keep me warm because I wouldn’t be able to rely on my cloak during the ritual. I sat down and started meditating, getting into the proper headspace.

By the time I was ready, the leshen was already patiently waiting beside me in a humanoid form with an elk skull. “You ready?” I asked.

“At your leisure,” they nodded.

I removed my robe and shivered as goosebumps instantly covered my body—skyclad outside in winter was a bitch. I settled before my singing bowl, thankful for the furs. I picked up the mallet, hit the edge three times, then slowly drew the mallet around the rim of the bowl. The hum hung in the air as I carried out the start of the ritual. Just before the note died out, I rang the bowl three more times.

Then the band kicked up. Okay, it wasn’t much of a band, but there were enough drums, a couple fiddles, and a flute to make a nice tune. Other members of the forest took up their ribbons. I moved over to the leshen and straddled over them. They already shifted their form appropriately. Then, on cue, the forest dwellers started weaving the maypole ribbons as I lowered myself down onto the leshen’s phallus.

A creature like a leshen had no need for sex, so I wasn’t surprised by their lack of skill. But I was fine with doing all the work. It actually made it easier to channel the magic that way. I leaned forward, splaying my hands across their chest and pushing them down. This position was much better than lotus. A growl rumbled from the leshen. Then they grabbed my hips and met my rhythm. Either they were a quick learner or I was very wrong about my initial assumption.

I was not complaining.

The leshen surprised me further when I felt a large press against my entrance. I let out a gasp then glanced down between my legs. Before, the leshen’s phallus had been basic and human. Now it had a lovely knot towards the base of the shaft.

“Would you prefer I changed back?” they asked.

“No, it’s fine. I was just surprised.” I pushed down and relished how the knot stretched me. It was even more delightful as it popped in and out of me as I continued riding them. How was this the first time I fucked someone with a knot? Sure, I had a dildo or two with them, but they obviously didn’t have the same wonderful power that the leshen was putting into their thrusts.

“Fuck me from behind,” I panted. If I wasn’t so focused on the ecstasy I would have been more impressed—and maybe a bit creeped out—by how the leshen simply flowed and shifted, reforming behind me while they never stopped thrusting deep into me.

Perks of a shifter species.

Another great thing was that, since the leshen was mostly wood, it felt like I was being spanked with a paddle with each pump. Would they leave my ass red and bruised? The thought sent a rush of excitement pulsing through me.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I came before the maypole finished.

Holding myself up grew difficult. I slid down onto my forearms, my face burying into the warm furs. I no longer needed their warmth. My fingers dug into the fur as moan after moan rocked out of me. I was drowning in bliss.

The leshen’s grip constricted tight around my lower body. I wasn’t sure about them, but I wasn’t going to last much longer. Between the knot, the paddling, and the tight binding… Damn, this had been such a turn of events. I was grateful now for all the circumstances that led to this wonderful Rite.

My orgasm hit and washed through me, blocking out the world for a moment. After the initial wave of pleasure, I focused and weaved the energy we had built for the spell. The leshen release their grip and sat back on the furs beside me. I gradually got to my feet—with a little help from them—and finished off the ritual. If this Rite didn’t help bring fertility to this forest, I had no idea what would.

With the ritual done, I plopped back down on the furs, stretched, then curled up on my side. “I’m going to take a nap now, if that’s alright.”

The leshen leaned over and nuzzled my hair. They pulled my discarded cloak over me before settling against my back. “Rest well, little one.”


	27. Multi-Monster Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BeMo will be on hiatus for a few months and will resume posting in 2020. See you then :)

CAERA:

Where was Witch? She was supposed to be home two days ago. One day without word I could understand. There could have been a snowstorm halting the trains. Or maybe she met someone and wanted to stay a bit longer. But as the sun set for the second night without word… of course I was worried.

When we had started to grow friendly, she always talked to me. Always said when she’d be away from the house and for how long. I always knew what she was up to. That was why this felt so wrong.

The worst was there was no one I could contact for help.

I couldn’t stray far from the house without losing large amounts of energy. After everyone helped to remove my tongue bar, Grove had brought over a special talisman that Witch charged frequently to give me more power. But even that had limits—especially since it had been almost a week since she recharged it last. All I could do was quietly wait until someone visited.

Brumal was almost here. Surely somebody would come seeking Witch for a last minute spell or charm. Right? Oh!—Valzok. He had a contract with her; he’d have to come by soon to deliver more firewood. Witch had postponed his deliveries while she went to the gala, but since she should be back by now, he’d have to come again. He had to. But when?

What would I do if she never returned?

No. I couldn’t lose hope yet. Witch was smart. She was talented and resourceful and whatever was going on, I needed to have faith she’d work through it.

Voices rose outside. Curious, I peeked out the window. There were three cloaked figured, their backs towards the house. They were arguing with the hamadryad—the fae’s deep, rich greens and browns stood stunningly against the snow. What were they saying?

I felt the ether quiver just before the hamadryad struck out against the others. A thick, twisted mass of vines erupted out of their backs, each with a feint red glow at the end. The light quickly faded and the three bodies melted into reddish puddles. Clay. They were golems. Had the vampires sent them? Whatever brought them here, the hamadryad wasn’t having it—I hoped he made the right call with destroying them.

“Hamadryad,” I called out before he could leave.

He looked over my way and approached the house. I opened the door for him. “Ghost,” he greeted as he entered.

“I worry for Witch.”

He nodded. “As you should it seems. I don’t know the details, but it looks like she got into a mess with those vampires. They were looking for her.”

I had so many questions to ask him, though I couldn’t waste my energy like that. “Help her. Please.” I knew they had a tense relationship, so it was a stretch to make such a request of him. But I had to try. I had to bet on him caring enough about her to keep her safe.

 

VÉRUS:

Witch missing was unsettling. Here I thought she was wise enough to not fall into trouble with those beasts. At least they were looking for her still and didn’t have her in their grasp. Where could she have gone?

I wandered through the woods, heading south. Most of the forest fae were hibernating so there weren’t many to inquire with; the ones still around had no information on Witch. I wasn’t sure how to interpret that. Was she playing smart and not going where the vampires would look for her? Or was she unable to come home at all? I asked them to notify me if they came across her or other vampires—golem or otherwise.

I happened upon a dead tree and stopped. I placed a hand on its rotting bark. Poor thing. It hadn’t been tied to a fae, but it was still a chilling reminder of my possible future. For so long my tree—and thus my life—had been safeguarded in a parallel world no one could access. I had never held fear in… I lost count of the years.

Soon that could all unravel. Especially if Witch didn’t return.

Vael didn’t have the proficiency to help the last time I asked him. And I knew of no other witches or druids or such that could help. _Do I wish to find her for more than just selfishness?_ I wondered as I moved on from the tree.

 

AERO:

Such a busy time of year. Day after day packages needed delivering all over town in time for the holiday. The pay was nice. It was also nice to be finally visiting dear, little Witch again. I couldn’t wait to hear how this vampire gala went. Her house was oddly dark when I arrived.

I knocked. “Witch. Are you in?” No answer. I knocked again. “Caera?”

Nothing. I hesitated then went inside.

The place was cold from days without a fire. Wasn’t Witch supposed to be home by now? The hold on her mail expired a few days back. “Caera, where’s Witch?”

She didn’t answer. Something was seriously wrong here.

“Witch is missing,” a deep voice said behind me. I turned and saw the hamadryad Witch had mentioned before. “Her maid seems weakened by her absence.”

“What do you mean she’s missing?”

“I don’t know details. Vampire golems came looking for her, so she must have gotten on their bad side.”

“ _Skatá_!” I swore. “You really know nothing else?” He shook his head. Dammit, I prayed she was all right. What could have happened? “Well… if you find her first, contact me right away please.”

I was an anxious mess the rest of the day. I rushed through my work so I could leave early. Willow might be able to help—he’d ease my nerves at the very least. On my way home I picked up from stew from Honey Cup and informed Honey about the situation. She agreed to subtly work the gossip chain and inform us of any news.

Willow instantly tuned into my unease when I got home. He pulled me away from unpacking the food and held me close, making me still. A shudder racked through me.

“What is it, little one?” he soothed as he stroked my hair.

“Witch is missing.”

His hand stilled for half a second. He held me tighter and I happily tucked further into his warm embrace, searching for any comfort I could find. “She’s fine. We’ll find her.”

I look at him scrupulously. Was he just comforting me, or did he someone _know_ she was okay? I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

“Do you want to take off work tomorrow?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know what good it’d do.” I pulled away from him and busied myself with the stew again. “She was in Haarhoven, the last I knew.”

Willow slowly scratched circles on my back. “You really fancy her.”

“It’s not like that,” I grumbled. I jostled my shoulders, shaking off his touch, and took my stew to the front room. He followed suit. We ate in silence.

How quickly things had changed since Brumalis.

 

VALZOK:

When I delivered new firewood to Witch’s cabin, I hadn’t expected a fae—a dryad, it seemed—to greet me. Then he told me what was going on. I let myself inside her house and sure enough, it was icy cold. Shit.

I lit the fireplace. I wasn’t sure when Witch might return home, but she should return to a warm house and bed.

“Sorry for the intrusion, Caera.” Silence. She must be weak. “And don’t worry, I won’t go through all of her things; just her lingerie and toys,” I joked. This time I felt a whisper along my arm. Good to know she was still present.

With the place heating up, I went back out to tend to my horse, Mallow. She was still skittish to enter these woods. After a minute of failed coaxing, the dryad appeared. Mallow whinnied and stamped her hooves, getting ready to rear. Then he calmed her. “You’re welcome in these woods, dear one,” the dryad declared.

Mallow’s nose flared as she settled. “Thanks…” What exactly had he done? The dryad nodded and disappeared again.

I walked her back to the house and settled in for a long night.

 

Hours later, the door slammed opened. I almost cut myself on my whittling knife.

“Witch?!” It was the mail courier. He was just as shocked as I was when he saw me. It quickly faded to disappointment. “I take it you know too, huh?”

“Yup,” I said.

“Any news?”

“Nope.”

Another fae walked up behind him. “Hello.” He gave me a slight bow before closing the door. “Shall we commiserate together?”

I gestured with my knife, welcoming them to make themselves comfortable, then went back to whittling. I already carved a number of little figurines. I was on my last chunk of carving wood too.

“I’m Willow, by the way. A friend of Witch.”

Why was he in such a talking mood? “Valzok,” I offered. “I have a contract with her.”

“Hmm. A simple contract, yet you sit here alone, whittling your worries.”

“Last I checked, my business wasn’t yours.”

The courier jumped between us, holding a hand out towards each of us. “Stop it, Willow.” He turned to me. “Sorry, just ignore him. He just gets nosey. We’re all worried about Witch; and, since this is her home, let’s just get along.”

 

The night dragged on in silence.

 

Willow shot to his feet. “She’s near!”

“What?” the courier and I blurted at the same time.

“Well she’s still far off, but I can sense her now.”

“How?” I asked.

“I gave her a wisp,” he explained, as if that’d make sense. He read my confusion and elaborated, “A unique fae charm.”

“Is she okay?”

He shook his head. “I can’t tell. I can just sense where she is.”

“Take me to her.” I threw on my cloak and went outside to Mallow. The two fea bickered a moment before Willow came outside. He flared into a giant, blue flame. When he flew off through the trees, I followed.

 

When we found her, she was passed out in the snow. I jumped off Mallow and ran to her, my heart thundering in my ears. _Don’t be dead_ , I prayed. I pulled her into my arms and was about to check for a pulse when she began flailing and screaming. “Calm down. Calm down! It’s me, Witch.”

I let her scramble away. As she calmed, she finally got a good look at me. “Valzok? What in the— _how_ are you here?”

_I guided him_ , Willow spoke.

Witch looked around, bewildered. I guess she’d never seen him in this form before. “Willow? How did you know where I was?”

_I gave you a wisp, remember?_

“What, the charm? Why didn’t you tell me what it was?”

“Look,” I interrupted. “We all have questions. However, I’d like to get out the cold night as quickly as possible.”

She nodded and stood up, brushing the snow off her cloak as she did. “You’re right. Let’s go home.”

I helped her onto Mallow before hopping up behind her. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep again in my arms. She looked so peaceful. Thoughts of Azari sleeping like this on rides back from a long day at beach resurfaced. I was indescribably thankful I hadn’t had to say goodbye to Witch tonight like I had to her.

I kissed Witch softly on the head.

 

AERO:

_We’re home,_ Willow announced as he materialized inside. I dashed to the door and threw it open.

Witch had just hopped off the horse. She looked at me and asked, “You’re here too?”

“Of course I am,” I said, my voice cracking a little. “We’ve all been worried.” I hugged her tight as soon as she came inside. She felt like an icicle. If Willow hadn’t been in his elemental state, I would’ve asked him warm her up.

She suddenly pulled away and ran over to something hanging on the wall. Grabbing it off its hook, she held the strip of fabric over her heart and closed her eyes.

“Don’t ever go to that gala again, Mistress,” Caera cried. That’s right; she’d been weak all this time. It was good to hear her voice again too.

Witch laughed lightly. “I never wish to return there. On a different note—I need some of that soup I’ve been smelling because fuck I’m hungry. And that smells _amazing_.” She put the ribbon back in its place then went to the kitchen.

“Well,” Valzok said so awkwardly. “Now that you’re home safe, I’ll let you get your food and rest.”

She turned and looked at him. “You’re not gonna stay?”

“Mallow has been out too long. Besides, it’s a bit crowded here.”

A heavy moment passed between them. She walked over and gave him a long hug. He cupped her face and pressed his forehead to hers. Guess they were closer than I thought.

I threw a glance at Willow.

 “We should be getting home too. You need your rest.” I walked up to Witch and kissed her temple.

“You too?”

 “You know I’d love to stay. But he’s right. You could use a good meal and a night’s rest.”

She put one hand on her hip and the other on her chest. “Are you trying to say I look like shit?” she sassed.

Willow chuckled. _Now you’ve done it, Aero_.

“What? No! No, that’s what I meant at all.” I knew they were just teasing, but I also knew they could easily get carried away with this. I scrunched my nose at her then gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re such a brat.”

“Exactly why you can’t handle me.”

_No, but he’d love for you to handle him._

“Really, Willow?” Now wasn’t the time for such callouts.

_You’re a sucker for fiery types._

“And that was a terrible joke.”

_It’s not a joke if it’s true._

“Alright. Enough,” I huffed. “Let’s leave her be.”

 

VÉRUS:

Given their moods before, I was surprised the orc and fae did not stay to keep Witch company. She didn’t argue with any of them. But as the last two left, she let her façade slip. Something about her expression urged me forward.

“Oh, Vérus.” Witch composed herself again and met me half way. “Hello.”

“So much for being careful,” I lightly chided.

She hugged her arms around herself and studied the snow. “All things considered, I actually did quite well.”

“Oh?”

“They clearly have no experience with fae.” A slow smile drew across her face. I was curious yet hesitant to find out exactly what that meant. “I also think I found a way to help your situation.”

It was then I noticed the branch she now wore around her neck. Its power hummed softly. I was unfamiliar with its signature, but given the gravity of the magic engrained in it, whomever it belonged to was older than I was. How did she gain their favor? She was full of even more surprises and mysteries.

A rush of wind swept the clearing. Witch shivered. “Get back inside. Rest up.”

“Fine, fine.” She rolled her eyes, but then took a moment to stare at me. “Goodnight, Vérus.”

 

CAERA:

I readied a bowl of soup for Witch while she said her goodbyes to the boys. I went upstairs, selected out a new outfit for her, and grabbed a towel so she could shower. I set them in the bathroom. I checked the fireplace; I’d have to add more wood soon, but not yet. Going back upstairs, I shook out her blankets and fluffed her pillows. It was nice having energy again, to be productive again.

But it still felt like I should be doing more for her.

She came back in with a heavy sigh. “Are you tired, Mistress?” I asked. I was instantly at her side, doing my best to massage her shoulders with my incorporeal hands. Thankfully, my doll should be delivered soon so I can properly help Witch.

“Sort of.” She sat down at the table and started eating. “Mostly just a lot of stuff on my mind. Thanks by the way—for getting my soup.”

“Of course.” I wrapped my arms around her and rested my chin on her shoulder. When I was this close to her, I could feel her heart, even without a body. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

“Nah. Not tonight.” She already polished off the bowl. “Tomorrow we can curl up with leftovers and I’ll dish _all_ about this past damn week.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Later, when she finally crawled into bed, I curled up next to her. I kissed the back of her neck— If only I could truly hold her. “I’m so glad you’re safe and home,” I whispered.

“Me too.”


End file.
